


The Hunger, Madness and Jealousy of a "Goddess"

by SV_Writer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Ending, Blood and Gore, Gen, Other, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SV_Writer/pseuds/SV_Writer
Summary: In the Ancient Land of Sarnah, the Goddess Astarte is worshiped through her Priestess.People obey their Goddess with absolute devotion. For she is their Goddess.But what happens, when the Priestess, isn't as kind and benevolent as she is supposed to be?





	The Hunger, Madness and Jealousy of a "Goddess"

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is a Fetish Piece. Some of the Content may be disturbing to some readers.   
> This story contains:  
> -Weight Gain  
> -Stuffing  
> -Obesity  
> -Psychological Torture  
> -Gore and Murder  
> If any of this disturbs you, please do not read this story.

**The Hunger, Madness and Jealousy of a “Goddess”**

A Commission by S.V. Writer

_WARNING: This story contains Heavily Obese women portrayed in unflattering manners, Fat (not obese) women, Scat and various degrees of Gore. If any of this disturbs you, do not read this story._

_NOTE: The Astarte, in this story, is based off the real deity of the same name, but contains several differences, and should be considered a different deity entirely._

_NOTE 2: The Country of Sarnah, is fictional, and does not exist. It was created by Tarquiness, and you must ask them, if you wish to use it in a story. I have been paid and commissioned to write a story with Sarnah as a setting._

_NOTE 3: It is a fact. In most animals, if you remove the heart, they will beat for a certain amount of time, even outside the body. For humans, it can beat for up to a minute and occasionally longer. For turtles, it can go even longer, for hours. Refer to page 39._

 

In our present 21st century, we live in a unprecedented golden age. Facilities, so convenient, that we take them for granted. We live in our towers of concrete, steel and glass; Monuments to our engineers and architects. We have so much.

So much that we take for granted.

Our present way of life, was so very different from the days of old. The ancient people. With customs now, long forgotten, they lived proud lives, with their own beliefs. They were not the people we are. They were very, very different.

So many different cities and kingdoms. Some remembered as great. Pinnacles of power, wealth and knowledge. Greece, Rome, India, Egypt and China. Powerful Countries, that built massive civilizations.

Indeed, they crumbled, but the mark the left stains on the world, even today.

Few countries have done that.

Few countries have reached that pinnacle.

So few.

And even fewer have reached that pinnacle, and yet… leave no mark when they fall.

Sarnah.

A dead country. No one knows where it once stood, so don’t bother looking for it. No one remembers when it stood. Little is known about it.

But we know it existed.

We know it was powerful. But not strong enough to face the might of other countries.

They were a different people. Even among our ancient ancestors, they were different. It was advanced. More advanced than any of its neighbours.

It had no king. It had a Council. 36 Families, controlled the kingdom. The Merchant-Adventurer Families. Each family was controlled by a Prince and his advisors.

36 Princes, controlled this gem of civilization.

But there was another power that controlled this gem.

The People of Sarnah, worshiped one god; Astarte. Goddess of Blood, Prosperity and Fertility. Everything was decided according to her whims.

And only one, could interpret her will.

The Priestess.

A Powerful Massive woman, she was not allowed to do anything on her own. Every priestess was selected from one of the families. Girls were selected at the age of ten.

Tender things they were, and they were forced into hell.

They were “trained”, to become the priestess. Officially, the one who proved to have trained the best became the Priestess, but in the shadows, it was always chosen.

Few knew this fact.

What was this training, you might wonder…

The Priestess, had to resemble Astarte.

Astarte, was a massive deity. She was heavy and soft, rolls of fat, hanging from her. In other, more specific words, Astarte, resembled, an heavily obese woman, with a her weight primarily consolidate at her abdomen and belly.

The Priestess had to be like that.

Training, was eating.

Ten-year-old girls, were stuffed with food. Terrible greasy food and drink. They were not allowed to move, without assistance.

The poor girls… 35 girls went through hell, for no reason, except pomp and ceremony.

In the end, one girl was always chosen. The fattest, and heaviest girl. She would be the new priestess for the rest of her life. And for as long as she’d live, she’d be fed. And fed, and fed and fed, and fed.

Making her bigger and bigger, and bigger and bigger.

Until she’d die.

And then, they’d just… start over.

*

Obina opened her mouth as the servant shoved the food in. She chewed it, as fast as she could before swallowing, but the heavy chunks made her gag and she lifted one thick finger, and a second servant came forward, who was holding a large dish, with a small lip, that was placed in her mouth.

The dish was slowly tilted and Obina drank deeply from it. The heavy smell of beer made her feel calm and ignore the spiking pain of hungry from her cavernous belly for a few seconds.

Eight years. It had been eight years, since she had been selected as Priestess. Since then, she had gained so much weight. She could no longer feel her legs. She could barely move her arms, or any part of herself.

Part of being the Priestess, was not moving. Literally. They did not let her move a muscle, and let servants and slaves do everything for her, from feeding, to cleaning. Everything was done for her.

As time went on, she gained so much weight… 840 pounds. That was her present total. And she was “right on track” apparently.

She glanced to the servant on the right, who hopped forward and held the massive piece of meat before her. It was not flavoured well, and fat dripped from its skin. So much fat. Sugar and fat. That was what so much of her food consisted of.

She bit into the massive piece of meat, not even bothering to taste it. she focused on cramming it into her void-like belly.

Oh, she was hungry…

She blinked as sweat dropped from her eyes and winced before crying out, her voice hoarse, “Fan… Fan me faster! Clean… Dry my face!”

Immediately other servants jumped forward and began to dry her damp, naked body, as the Fanner began to move the long fan faster, blowing the dry air into her face.

She closed her eyes, and frowned with irritation. She hated this. She hated her body… but she loved it as well. Perhaps even more so than she hated it. This… this gargantuan flab, that hung off her like sacks of sand. She couldn’t even feel half of her body anymore…

But it was a sign. A sign of everything she had done. Everything she had worked at. Everything she had forced upon her. Everything she had accepted. Her body was her life.

Her life was not perfect… It had not been the one she wanted… but she made it her own.

…She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t even sit up. She couldn’t sit without support. She was even more helpless than a new-born baby…

Well, that wasn’t really true.

She had power.

So much power.

Everyone obeyed the Gods. She was the one person, who could interpret the ‘Will of the Gods’. Everything was done as per her whims and facies. No one could deny her. No one would deny her.

This entire Kingdom. This beautiful country of Sarnah, was hers… for her entire life…

She weakly moved one hand, motioning for them to continue feeding her. Hunger was biting into her body again. Her appetite had grown immensely since she had become priestess. She recalled how painful it was when it began; when she was mere girl of ten…

How they had forced her to eat… She recalled passing out several times. She recalled how her belly, had expanded, how it weighed her down like a rock. After the first month, she had not been able to move. Not that they wanted her too.

For an entire year, she had prayed she would not be chosen for this “prestigious” role. She did not want to be the priestess of Astarte. She wanted a normal life. She wanted to find a husband, and marry him, and have children… A normal life.

She chewed on the soft, fatty meat, feeling it break down in her mouth in seconds, before falling into her belly.

Ah, how she was divided. Hate and desire… She glanced down and weakly poked the side of her belly. She couldn’t move her hands… Atrophy. She wasn’t allowed to use her limbs. She wasn’t allowed to use anything. Atrophy was the obvious result.

And this was supposed to be the way she had to look. The representative of God on Earth. She motioned for more beer and began to drink again, just as a young boy ran in and feel to his knees before her and lowered his head.

“Priestess Obina, I carry a message for you from the Merchant Prince Jehnah, of the Hankaku Family, may I speak?”

Obina closed her eyes slightly and nodded slowly, continuing to eat. As per custom, she was not supposed to speak up, to the boy. Her servants would do that for her; A man who had been standing by this entire time, stepped forward and spoke in a clear pristine voice, “The Priestess will hear your message from the Prince.”

The Boy spoke without raising his head, “Prince Jehnah, has come with his near family to give offerings to the Goddess. They seek your blessing and hope they will be welcomed into your home.”

Obina eye fell shut as she silently contemplated the situation. Offerings for the Goddess just meant, Tribute to her. Everything they gave would just be used for her whims. That usually meant they wanted something, but sometimes Families, gave “Offerings” just boost their public image…

Right now, Obina was assuming the latter. She didn’t think they had a reason otherwise. She nodded again, and once more the man spoke up, “The Priestess will see them. Tell them to wait. We will send for someone to bring them in.”

The boy nodded again and took off back down the hallway. How fast he was… She used to be able to run like that… Now, she could barely remember what her feet felt like, let alone the idea of running… What was it like? To lift your limbs. To move on your own…

She didn’t remember… Did she want to remember? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps the memory, would just make her present situation all the more unbearable, and the slight consolation of power would be rendered moot by her own inability to get what she truly wanted…

…She was hungry.

She blinked, and turned back to the food. She sighed and the man holding the food, continued to feed her. She chewed peacefully and swallowed. She was still hungry… She glanced at the empty plate in the man’s hands.

He bowed low, “We shall have the kitchens prepare another meal for you, Priestess.” And he walked away. She turned to the man, who had spoken to the boy for her and spoke, “I’ll… I’ll meet them now…” The man nodded and walked away, down the hall. As he left, she began to wheeze weakly, from the strain on her throat from speaking.

God, she hated her own voice. It was so harsh, from lack of use. Not that she didn’t use it. It was just she didn’t use it often. That combined with copious amounts of drinking and eating had ruined her voice. She often wondered what she might have sounded like if she hadn’t become Priestess. She did have a nice voice as a child…

She heard the loud creaking of the massive stone doors… she rarely went through those doors… Those massive magnificent doors, that led to the outside world… to the sun and fresh air… How long had it been since she had left this room?

Everything that she needed was brought here. When she needed to be bathed, she was washed here. She didn’t wear any clothes in any case. If she needed to relieve herself, she just went whenever she wanted, and then her servants would clean her. If she wanted to be pleasure, they would pleasure her where she sat. She never moved, nor did she have to be moved.

…well, there were a few situations…

She sighed again, as the Prince approached. Jehnah Hankaku. The present head of the Hankaku family, and one of the strongest Princes in the country. His strength come from the support of the people and herself. The Hankaku family was known for making great donations to the people, and to the temple of Astarte. As long as, they had the backing of herself and the people, they would remain at the peak.

Right now, it was probably just one more of their attempts to maintain their strength.

She gave a soft smile to the Prince as he bent his knee before her and spoke, “I hope you are well, Priestess, I come offering gifts and tributes to Astarte, seeking yours and the divine goddess’s blessings.”

She glanced behind him at his troupe. Several servants, carrying baskets of fruit and meat; chests filled all kinds of treasure…

Her smile faded, when her eyes feel on something… Nay, someone.

A Woman. Like the Prince she was kneeling. She was dressed simply, but there was no way to hide her beauty. She wore a simple bit of thick cloth around her chest, that barely held back her visibly large breasts. Her skirt was long, but she also wore it low, just below her waist. Her stomach, was a beautiful round globe, with soft rolls of fat on the side of her abdomen, but it was not overly large, that it seemed hideous. She clearly wasn’t pregnant; the vague, but specific striations on her stomach proved that, accompanied with its almost jelly like quality.

Her skin had a healthy glowing tan to it. She did not wear much jewellery, but the little she wore was not tacky. It only accentuated her beauty. And her hair… her long, long raven locks, of beautiful straight hair… Over twelve feet of it, with beautiful braids and pins of solid gold and jewel, to hold it, and it held in the air by five servant girls…

That hair, was the sign of royalty. She was related to the prince… She was clearly not his mother… His sister? Sister? Obina’s frown deepened as she thought on it, before remembering that the Prince was still kneeling before her. She swallowed and took a few deep breaths, remembering what to say to him, “For what reason, does this honourable Prince desire mine and my Patron’s blessing? Be wary, for dark and evil desires will not be entertained by our just God.”

The Prince did not raise his head when he spoke, “My younger sister”, he gestured to the beautiful woman, by his side, “Is to be wed in two fortnights. Her suitor is a kind man, who has proven himself several times, but I dare not have this marriage take place without the blessing of Astarte. I ask, you if this pairing is one, that is destined to happen or is it not meant to be?”

Marriage… Obina swallowed again and she could feel her heart strain in her chest. Her breathing began to speed when she understood this situation. This girl… This beautiful woman was to be married… She had a man ready for her… Ready to care for her, provide for her… and love her…

She opened her mouth and it felt dry… So very dry… What was she supposed to say again? Something like, “This pairing is one accepted by our kind God. May you find good fortune together”

She was supposed to say that.

She was supposed to…

She glanced down at her body. This… this fat blob. She weakly poked her belly. She couldn’t even use her fingers properly… She could feel her belly gurgle painfully, as it began to crave more food. Food. That endless stream that moved down her gullet. Apparently, the Goddess lived within her. She had to care for her. Care for Astarte, like her own unborn child… She had to eat, to make sure she was safe…

Food. The fuel that powered this disgusting mass, that was her body… It was the fuel that gave her this immense power, but destroyed any chance for a normal life…

She had wanted to have a child when she was younger. She had wanted to marry a kind man and bear his children… But she didn’t need that, as long as she had this power. The Power of the Priestess. The entire kingdom of Sarnah, was in the palm of her hand.

She could have everything she wanted…

This Princess, couldn’t do anything without her family’s or Obina’s approval…

So why did she look so happy?

She gritted her teeth painfully and swallowed. She opened her mouth and spoke slowly, “I… I want… to speak to… the Princess.”

Her servants glanced at her uncertainly and the Prince frowned with uncertainty before nodding, and motioned for his sister to step in front.

Obina shook her head slightly, “No… Alone… I want to… I will speak with her alone…”

The Prince opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. He nodded, and pulled back, motioning for his servants to follow, leaving the baskets and chests. The Girl’s attendants began to carefully wrap her hair around her legs, creating a large beautiful ring of her own hair… such beautiful hair…

Obina turned her gaze to her servants, and then to the offerings. The Man who normally spoke for her, gave her a low bow and motioned to the other servants, and they all rushed forward, grabbing the items and rushing deeper inside.

Not all of them moved. There were 3 attendants who wouldn’t move not matter what. Her Life attendants; Two guards and a middle-aged woman, skilled in the practise of medicine. She supposed to be the greatest in all of Sarnah… Obina had little doubt of that…

They were the only one she could trust. For various reasons. They were not only devote, and pious people, but they never left her side. Ever. She could trust them to not speak to anyone else.

Obina watched the rest of her servants, scuttle out before glanced back at the Princess. Her face… This Girl’s beautiful face, was painted with terror. But not the kind of fear that one showed to their god. It was the fear of someone who was uncertain of the situation before them. She was not weak. She had been raised with strength…

Obina swallowed once more before speaking, “You… What is… What is your name?”

The Princess tilted her adorable little head, “My name? My name is Jenia. Jenia Hankaku, Priestess.”

Jenia…

Jenia?

Obina’s eyes widened, “You… I remember now… You were… You were one of them… One of the other girls… To be trained for this position… You trained beside me, to be the Priestess…”

Jenia nodded, “Indeed, I did Priestess, but our God selected you, to be her will on this World.”

Obina’s eyes narrowed with fury. She shut her mouth firmly, but she wanted to scream. She wanted to tell this annoying, naïve little slut, everything. Shut up. Don’t act like this was some prestigious position. She was…

She felt her own fingers, weakly grab her flab. She was sick. She was sick and Jenia was healthy. Obina was made into this sick thing. This sick, sweaty blob, that could do nothing. Obina had to be cleaned and carried around like some ugly super-massive baby. She was not loved. She was humiliated, oh she was sure of that.

But her… Jenia…

She was beautiful. That skin, that figure… She was everything that a man would want… She had everything…

She had everything…

Obina could feel the veins throbbing in her head. Jenia had everything she had ever wanted. Family, health, and happiness. Everything.

But Obina had one thing… She felt a sick smile tugging on her lips and she opened her mouth to speak, “Jenia… Be my servant.”

Jenia’s eyes widened, “Priestess?”

Obina didn’t hold out her hand or anything. Not that she didn’t want to. She just couldn’t lift her hand. Damn this fucking atrophy. She continued to speak, “The God… Our God, does… not prevent your marriage, but… I can only see pain… in your future.” She paused for a few breaths. She felt a terrible glee, looking at Jenia’s pained expression.

Oh, this was delicious.

“But… if you serve me… then-” As she spoke, Obina’s stomach let out a terrible gurgle, and Obina groaned in pain. This was bad… It wasn’t hunger… She had to… She had to…

There was a terrible damp roar from her rear and she gagged on her own foul stench. Jenia stepped back and placed her hand over her nose and mouth. The disgust was apparent from her expression. Obina gritted her teeth, and in an attempt to retain her dignity, she continued speaking, “I-If you s-serve… Me… then your future will be-”

She groaned as another loud burst emerged from her body, just as foul as the last, if not more so.

Jenia bowed deeply, “Forgive me, Priestess. But if our God does not forbid my union with the one I love, then I will chance the bad fortune that come to me. Thank you, for warning me, but I will accept my fate.”

And with those words, she lifted her hand and rattled the gold bangles on it. Immediately, Jenia’s attendants rushed into the room, and uncoiled her hair, smoothly, before lifting it. And then she calmy turned around and marched out of the room, with the small group following her, carrying the massive train of hair.

Obina could not chase after her, and nor did she want to. Anger. Deep anger. Wrath. Fury. All of it. Everything. The Fury and Wrath of the Gods was smouldering within her breast. This bitch… She… she just refused _Her_?

She took in a breath and let out a rage-filled scream, before letting out a terrible hacking cough in pain. Her breathing became more laboured, as her doctor stepped forward and began to help her calm down and stabilize her breathing.

Vengeance. She would make this girl… this fucking bitch pay…

She was so proud of her body… So proud of her beautiful figure…She obviously looked down on Obina, with her obese, immobile physique…

She’d prove that this… this “worthless” body had power. Power that would be able to destroy that beautiful body… Forever.

*

Jenia sat down beside her brother in the palanquin. Her nose was wrinkled from that distasteful display. Ugh, what a foul woman. She couldn’t even control herself, and she wanted Jenia to serve her? Ha!

She shifted slightly, as her attendents carefully, tucked her long hair around her body. She had a lot of hair… at times it was cumbersome, but she adored it. taking care of it every day, cleaning it, maintaining it. It wasn’t easy. Many royal women had often skipped a few days of hair treatment and that resulted in it being cut short. Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen.

Jehnah glanced to Jenia, with a frown on his face, “She wanted you to serve her?”

Jenia waved her hand, “She asked me, and I refused. Why on Earth would I serve that foul slob? She can’t do anything by herself, and I would bet everything I had that she was doing this because she was jealous.”

Jehnah tilted his head, “Jealous?”

Jenia nodded, “You saw, what happened to me after the training. I was in terrible condition. I would barely move, barely breath, I was dying from hunger. All of us were. Only Obina was taken care of, though. The rest of us were expected to get back in shape.”

Jehnah looked away. He remembered that time. His sister had suffered greatly, but she had worked so hard to become the beauty she was now. He turned back and took her hand gently, “Yes, I remember. You were very strong…”

Jenia nodded, “Yes, I was. But not all the other girls were the same. Do you recall? Three of them killed themselves. Well, they had slaves kill them. They couldn’t move, could they?”

Understanding bloomed on her brother’s face, “You’re saying, that despite her authority, she is constant pain?”

Jenia nodded, “I should know. I went through the same. I can only assume that the pain of hunger has only increased with time. Not to mention her atrophy and her other… problems. I do not think she can control when she needs to relieve herself.”

Jehnah’s face crumpled with pity, “The poor woman… But, it is the only way she can talk to Astarte.”

Jenia sighed. Her brother, was not a bad man. Nor was he simple. He was smart, strong, brave and kind. But he was also pious. Very pious. And he just didn’t understand that this entire thing was rigged.

Perhaps she could communicate with the Gods. Jenia doubted it. Families, agreed from before who would become the Priestess. She had not known that when she was young, but she found out with time. She would never have become the Priestess. Obina was destined too, but not because some God chose her.

It was the choices of Men, that decided the fate of Men.

She sighed and relaxed, as her brother spoke again, “But you are sure, she offered you the choice?”

Jenia nodded, “Yes, yes. She warned about dangers in the future, but the God did not forbid my marriage.” She smiled softly. She was excited. Her to-be-husband, was lower member of another family, but he was good man. He ran a small chain of tailors and cloth merchants, and he was relatively well-off.

And, she did hear many, many delicious rumours about his prowess in bed.

She sighed again. Ah, she was so excited for the future…

She gently ran her hand over her hair… Obina also had rather nice hair… Probably as long, as her own, if not longer… Her face was also nice, and Jenia was quite sure many a man would desire that body of hers as well, despite the many faults it had…

She smirked to herself. Obina was definitely jealous of her. How delightful it was… The Great Priestess of Astarte, the One who held the Goddess in her belly, was jealous of her…

She smiled softly as she closed her eyes. Yes, she was very excited for the future.

*

Sarnah, was beautiful and powerful kingdom.

It was advanced for its time. Medicine. Science. Military. Economics. It was extremely developed. It is a shame that so few records of it survive in this day.

But like all kingdoms of the old, there was one factor that controlled the kingdom, that stood above all others.

Religion.

The people had their one God; Astarte. And she was a kind goddess. While records hold her as the Goddess of Blood, Prosperity and fertility, the People of Sarnah prayed to her for everything.

And the Priestess was her spokesperson.

So, they prayed to the Priestess.

The 36 Princes and their families, were the ones who officially controlled the state. They were all-powerful, and could do anything within the law, including executions.

The only one who stood above the Princes, was Astarte.

And her Priestess.

Everyone obeyed their God.

So, everyone obeyed their Priestess.

*

Weddings were a wonderful celebration in Sarnah.

‘Love’ was not a common factor in weddings of Royalty, but that was of little consequence to them, as long as they were able to maintain a decent lifestyle with a decent partner. 

Weddings of Royalty, normally consisted of several separate segments;

-The Proposal; where the offer of marriage was made,

-The Blessing; where the approval of the Goddess was obtained,

-The Engagement; Where the marriage was formalized,

-The Changing; A ceremony in which the to-be-wife gives up several items that were once her own, to her to-be-husband to mark her change in family, and finally,

-The Union; A final ceremony in which the actual marriage takes place.

Among the common people, the stages of Blessing and Engagement, rarely occurred, but the tradition was very important to Royalty, who usually preformed each step with a great deal of pomp and celebration.

A person could back out of the Marriage at any time, but as an unspoken rule, there was a compensation due to the family who had been deprived of the “dissolved” marriage. It is for this reason that Marriages were rarely broken up, and only for the worst of situations.

Jenia had presently gone through Proposal and Blessing, and now, the Hankaku family was preparing for Engagement. Both families would together for these celebrations. The family, Jenia was marrying into was the Shnid family. The Shnid family held a great deal of wealth due to the great monopoly they held on the cloth trade. They had farmers who produced cotton, and various other natural fibres such as Jute and coir. They obtained a strange cloth from some strange people. Only the Shnid family could speak the language of these strangers. They called this cloth, ‘Silk’ and it was incredibly expensive and was only available to the Royalty.

In any case, suffice to say the Shnid family was incredibly rich. But they had a habit of keeping wealth within the family, rarely giving out to others for any reason whatsoever. It is for this reason that the Hankaku family was seen in a better light than the Shnid family.

Not that it mattered in this wedding.

Jenia slowly walked into the massive hall, which already had over a hundred guests. Most were drinking and talking, but few turned to look at her as she walked in. She moved slowly, as to prevent strain on her long hair. It pleased her to see, that no woman had hair like her own.

She looked forward, at the main table, and saw him; Halnat Shnid. Her to-be-husband. Oh my… what a man…

He looked delicious. She smiled softly at him and bent slightly, bowing before him and he rose from his seat, bowing his head slightly at her. His eyes were greedy, as he took in her beautiful figure. Oh yes… He wanted her bad.

She had made a good choice with her clothing today; a thin cloth around her chest, that only barely covered her nipples. Due to the weakness of the cloth, her breasts were visible for what they were supposed to be; The heavy, sagging, pendulous masses that hung delectably from her chest.

The skirt she had chosen, was a beautiful one, but she wore it low, just below her waist. This allowed her massive round, heavy belly hang freely. The soft gelatinous skin, shone in the light of torches around them. She had her entire body oiled to shove of the clear, beauty of her body, but she had taken special care of her belly. The striations that were normally only vaguely present, were now standing out against the tan, relief of her belly. And like before, they only accentuated the beauty of her abdomen.

Every step she took, caused her rolls of fat to jiggle slightly. With every step she took, more and more people began to get drawn to her; not just men but women, and children too. Men would dream of her tonight, Woman would fall with envy and children will grow and remember the goddess that was herself.

The thought made her so happy.

She smiled again as she slowly took her place beside Halnat. His smile was divine. Oh my, she was so happy, that she had this man… But she couldn’t get too comfortable right now…

As part of the entire celebration, she was supposed to dance. Jenia was a rather good dancer. One of the best among the woman of her age. This could be partially attested to her figure, but it was also greatly put up to her innate talent.

As soon, as everyone had eaten and drunken to their fill, they would make space and she would dance. Oh, she was happy. Her eyes darted away from her to-be-husband, to an open window. To a certain massive building… A grand figure it was. The Temple of Astarte. The Home of the Priestess.

The Priestess has said terrible thing would happen if she married Halnat, but nothing had happened in the few days since. Jenia smirked. That obese hag was really just bluffing.

Her smile broadened, when she felt Halnat’s warm hand gently caress her thigh, and slowly move up, and gently kneed the soft flesh of her belly. Oh, he knew how to move his hands. He was talented… but…

She slowly pushed his hand down. Thankfully, none of their parents were looking at them, and were focused on the entire celebration. She couldn’t let anything crazy happen here…

She turned when she felt some tap her shoulder. She smiled at her brother who was looking down on her kindly, “Yes, Jehneh?”

He pointed to the centre of the hall, that was now clear of people, “We have to musicians. Do you want to dance now?”

She grinned, “Of course, brother dear.” She took his hand and rose from her seat and kissed his cheek, before whispering, “See, nothing bad has happened.”

Jehnah nodded with a smile on his face, “Yes, it appears that the Goddess has accepted your marriage.”

Jenia sighed and smiled, “Yes, yes… Come, escort me.”

Slowly, Jehnah led his sister to the middle of the room, and like before, with every step she took, more people, were draw to her, and the talk slowly died down. Gradually, Jenia became a singularity, that drew everyone in towards her.

Ah, yes… this how it should be. She glanced down and her eyes focused on the intricate patterns that were carved into the stone floor. Circles. Concentric circles, the smallest point, at the centre…

She placed herself on that point, and turned back to her brother, and gave him a small bow, to which he responded with a soft smile. Carefully, she reached behind and undid the restraints of her chest binding, and freed her chest. She handed the cloth to her brother, who then proceeded to walk back to his seat to watch, her talent.

The attendants that had been carrying her hair all this time, slowly lowered it to the ground, and began to remove the many pins and braids, smoothing it. Dancing, with this long hair, was not impossible, but it was very difficult, and required a great deal of strength.

She slowly raised her left hand, holding it above her head. The palm was upward facing, and her fingers, were spread. She placed her right hand, underneath her breasts, gently lifting them slightly, as if to show them of to everyone. She shifted her hips a little, but the soft motion, caused her enormous belly to jiggle violently, and she could feel the desire coming from the people.

And then the music started, and she began to move.

She started, by swinging her head, and causing her entire train of hair, all 12 feet of it, to fly into the air. There was a tremendous gasp from the crowd, and Jenia smiled. She began to move her legs with expertise born out of years and years of practise. She moved her shoulders closer together, as her breasts swung wildly with her movements.

Nay, her movements may have seemed wild but everything was carefully planned and trained, and everyone could see that. Every small movement, down to the very twitches of her muscles. It was all planned. For every movement made her body move.

And when her body moved, her breasts and belly were seen in their full glory.

Her breasts moved almost hypnotically, swinging in vaguely circular patterns but more in spirls, drawing the watchers in, and then pulling them out to enjoy more.

Her belly, bounced. It bounced and moved. Like it was jelly. And to say it looked delicious would be an understatement. The rolls of fat on her body. Her cream-like hips. Everything. It was almost as if, the music was gone. People could… they could “hear” her belly slosh, softly, keeping the beat of the dance.

Yes, music was not needed. All they need was Her. Jenia. All they had to do was watch her… forever… And Jenia drew them in. Like Bees to Honey. Like Moths to a Candle-flame…

She could feel the sweat drip off her body in rivers. Her body was straining. Crying in pain. She may have been a good dancer, but she was not… fit, per se. This dance, by itself was difficult to preform, and with her additional weight, and lack of physical strength… She could only perform for about ten minutes…

But that was fine. For these ten minutes, she was a goddess to the people watching her…

Yes, this was fine. She felt her body move painfully, her heavy stomach and breasts, beginning to weigh her down. Slowly, she moved to a halt, spinning once in place, and sliding to the ground smoothly. Her hair, began to wind around her, and covered her exposed upper body, and grabbing the moisture.

She sat on the ground, breathing deeply, as the music ended, and applause burst from the crowd. Ah, this was… this was good…  She smiled and lifted her head, and stared at the ceiling. Yes… Everything was perfect right now-

Then she heard the clanking of metal… Hm? It was getting closer… She turned around, just as her brother was approaching her, and her eyes widened.

She saw a group of men and women approaching. They were big. Not like herself or Obina or her mother… They were muscular, and tall. Shining pinnacles of strength and power. The loose armour on their body, made the sharp, crisp clank as they moved, their swords tapping against their backs and thighs.

Knights.

Knights were the only security of Sarnah. They functioned as both a police force, and as a standing military, and as such, were subjected to harsh training to become the best. The loose armour they wore was more of a status symbol. They were so well trained, that they didn’t really need armour. It was just for a worst-case scenario. People knew how strong they were. Even though they were supposed to help the people, most were afraid of them.

And no one was willing stand against them.

Jehnah handed Jenia her chest binding, and she could feel the fear radiating from her brother. She felt the fear in herself. It was only then, did Jenia realized that silence had fallen in the room. She frowned and slowly followed her brother. Knights were a fearsome bunch, but that wasn’t the problem here.

It was the fact that they were here.

Knights only showed up like this, in armour, if they had some duty here… And since they were obviously not going to fight a war… it meant that someone in here, was a criminal.

Crime was not tolerated in Sarnah, with many of the punishments being unnaturally brutal and painful. If you were a criminal, you might as well, give being seen as a person anymore.

Jehnah swallowed and slowly began to move towards them, when his path was cut off by another man. Unlike her brother, who was a slender and delicate looking person, this man was big, almost as big as the Knights themselves. He had a big, white, bushy beard, but his head was bald. His proud back was facing her, but Jenia knew what his face looked like. Sharp, dark eyes, that shone with intelligence. An bird-like nose, that had a handsome curve to it. Every feature, every angle on his face, created the idea of power.

He was her and her brother’s father; Jantar Hankaku. The Shadow Head of the Hankaku family.

While Jehnah, was the official head of the family, her father once held the title of Merchant Prince, but, as was custom, he gave it up when Jehnah came of age. It was because of him that the Hankaku family was as powerful as it was today. He made the Hankaku family’s present image. He was the foundation it was built on.

Officially, her brother controlled the family. But everyone knew, that her Father controlled everything. No one did anything without his approval. Her brother knew this and accepted this. He was still learning and that was fine.

And a boy who was learning, would not have the strength to talk to these Knights.

Jantar slowly walked up to the Knights and bowed his head before them, “Good day, protectors of this Kingdom. I welcome you, to my daughter’s Engagement. How may I help you?”

The Knights slowly looked around and then, one of them stepped forward, “We are here on the orders of the Priestess Obina, the one who carries the Goddess in her belly. We charge you, Jantar Hankaku, from the Hankaku Family, with Blasphemy and disrespect to our goddess. You will be taken to the Temple and will await trial, which shall take place at noon, on the ‘morrow.”

There was a loud scream and Jenia saw a heavy-set, almost obese woman, running from the crowds to her father… Kani… Her Mother. Jehnah, rushed forward and grabbed their mother, his body struggling to hold onto her massive bulk, “Mother…! Please… Calm down!”

Jenia watched in shock as her mother continued to scream and plead as her father merely nodded his head and let the Knights escort him away. Blasphemy? How was he, of all people, being accused of Blasphemy?

Jenia turned to her brother, as saw the same confusion, fear and uncertainty within herself on his face. Their mother had fallen to her knees sobbing, heartbroken. Jenia placed her hand to her chest. She could feel her heart beating, like a hammer on an anvil…

Blasphemy… No, this wasn’t real… She gritted her teeth painfully. That fucking priestess… She said she saw “Pain in her future” … Jenia was certain, that her father was no Blasphemer. This was… this was a set up. “Pain in her future”. Pain that, she herself was causing… that Fucking Priestess!

*

In Sarnah, there were several actions that were declared crimes, and each one was of a different magnitude, with lowest receiving the lightest punishment and the highest receiving, the Death Penalty.

At the very bottom was actions like Thievery and Swindling. Gradually, they rose in magnitude, with base crimes being followed by others like Adultery, Betray and Treason, Murder and at the top, Blasphemy.

Some might wonder, why is something like Blasphemy at the very top of this “Crime pyramid”, and many even admit it was illogical, but this country was founded on religion, and only one religion. It was the one religion that all people followed.

A religion to one god, in a country of zealots.

To them, Blasphemy was almost inconceivable, and anyone who did think of it, deserved every punishment and more.

*

Jenia sat silent by her brother, and her mother, as their palanquin moved. Jehnah looked terrible, as did her mother. Her brother had a small stubble on his chin. He must have been in too much of a panic to bother shaving today.

Jenia glanced at her mother, and winced at the soft sobs she heard from the large woman. Her Mother was kind woman… She did not deserve to suffer like this…

Jenia began to wring her hands silently. The Priestess did this. She made it look like her father was a blasphemer. How… She wasn’t sure… But she knew the problem of this situation.

Blasphemy as a crime was extremely high. The highest, in fact. But due to this magnitude, it was also extremely hard and rare to be convicted of it. The only person who could call it upon someone, was the Priestess, for only God or her envoy could accuse someone of the crime.

Only one other thing was required. The Act of Blasphemy. Jenia felt confident here. Their family did a great deal for The Temple of Astarte. There was no way, he could be accused of this! She smiled to herself and nodded as the palanquin came to a halt. Silently, she followed her brother out, and was immediately swarmed by attendants to carry her long, glossy locks, as was her mother.

She was so sure… But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off… Something was terribly off… What? She glanced around, as they slowly walked through the Temple to the main hall. Every single wall, was decorated with paintings, or enamels or statues of Astarte and the stories about her.

Jenia smiled bitterly. She remembered how much she enjoyed these stories as a child. How the goddess protected the people and… and gave birth… and fought… So much… So much… She loved those stories. She loved their goddess. So, it felt ironic that her Priestess was trying to hurt her family so.

She came to a halt before the massive doors of the Main Hall. This was different from where they had come the other day. The Priestess stayed in her hall, but the Main hall was where trials, and greater functions, celebrations and rituals took place.

Jehnah knocked on the door, and slowly they opened, soundlessly, and they moved inside.

The Priestess was not here yet, but a crowd had already gathered to watch… Sycophants. Jenia was quite sure none of them were here to help their famiy. No, they would all be too scared of insulting the Goddess.

Jenia paused, her train of thought, was derailed as she looked ahead. There was the podium, where the Priestess would sit. Before it, was a long iron pole. Shackled to the pole, was her father. His normally, neat beard, was now, rough and scattered. He only wore clothes on his lower half. His upper body had been stripped, and the terrible purple bruises were visible all over his body.

Immediately, her mother began to run towards him. Run would be a strong word. Being the heavy woman, she was, she could not run, but she was obviously trying very hard to move fast. It wasn’t hard for her attendants to keep pace with her. Neither Jehnah or Jenia tried to stop her. It was not forbidden for family to talk to the accused at a trial.

By the time, their mother had reached their father, she was panting like an animal. Jenia could see her sobbing painfully, as she touched his wounds, and repeat his name over and over.

Slowly, they approached their father, and Jehnah knelt before him, bowing his head, in shame, “Father…”

Jenia watched silently, as their father stared at his son’s kneeling form before speaking, “Look up, Jehnah… I will not have the head of our Family show weakness in public.”

Jehnah responded by raising his head and nodding. Her father smiled weakly, nodding slowly, “That’s better…” He glanced at all them with the same bitter smile, “How nice to see you all…” His eyes lingered on Jenia longer than the others, as if he wanted to say something.

Jehnah responded with a smile of his own, “You’ll be able to see us for much longer. This trial is baseless. I have no idea why the Priestess has brought these charges up against you, but I’m sure everyone can see them as ludicrous!”

Jenia remained silent. Both she and her father, knew that the people would not take kindly to an offence like this. Only her brother and her mother were naïve enough to think this way… There was a reason why Blasphemy was the greatest of crimes…

There was a heavy thud from in front of them. Jenia glanced up at the deep sound. It was the sound of something heavy moving over the stone floor… How deep it was… There was another thud and Jenia felt her body shudder as the vibrations ran through her.

Oh, it chilled her…

Then she saw her.

A voice rang out, “Bow! Bow for the Priestess of Astarte!”

From beyond the podium, a set of large wooden doors slowly opened. Those doors led to the Priestess’s hall, so there was only one person who’d come through them.

Jenia tried to stop her face from twisted with anger as the Priestess was brought into the room. The unnaturally large woman, had no ability to move on her own. As a result, her platform was being moved by her attendants. Six attendants were carrying her platform. They were strong, well-built men, and there was a distinct pride in their eyes for they served as the transport of the gods.

But despite that pride, exhaustion was distinctly visible on their bodies, as every muscle trembled and shook. Their well-built figures were dripping with sweat, that caused them to resemble waterfalls. How much did that woman weigh?

Slowly, and gradually, they walked up to the podium, before slowly and gently lowering the Priestess’s platform on to it.

Jenia felt a dark hatred burn in her heart, as she gazed upon that massive jiggling form. Prietess Obina. She was the epitome of beauty… Every man wanted her. Every woman wanted to be like her… Everyone worshiped her.

Except Jenia.

Jenia was one of the few privy to the truth of the Priestess. Nay, there were so many who knew the truth, like her brother. Jenia was just one of them who chose to believe it, for she had experienced the torture of living in that… that immobile state.

She could see how she struggled to even breath. She couldn’t move her arms. Her pale body had an bright sheen to it. Whether it was from sweat or oil, Jenia didn’t know.

She noticed Obina raise one finger, and immediately an attendant moved forward, carrying a large pitcher, which was placed at her lips. The entire audience watched her drink from the pitcher slowly. Jenia wondered what was in it... She doubted it was just water.

As Obina drank, silence fell through the hall. Her drinking was a sign that she was ready to judge this case, and this was an important case. The silence started off subtle, but slowly became more intense. Eventually the only sounds that could be heard were from the The Priestess herself. Every gurgle her belly made, every gulp she took. The soft slaps of her folds of fat against her body. Everything could be heard as it echoed in the hall.

And then the pitcher was pulled away and she smacked her lips a few times before looking down at Jantar. Her eyes narrowed, and he lowered his head before her. Her gaze shifted from him to another attendant who was kneeing by her side. Jenia hadn’t even noticed him there. He was so small compared to Obina, he practically blended into her.

The Attendant stood up and turned to Jantar and he spoke with a voice that too loud for his small body, “The Priestess brings this trial into effect.”

Not a single sound could be heard to respond to the statement.

The speaker glanced around for a few seconds before continuing, “The accused is Jantar Hankaku, from the Hankaku family, father of the Present Merchant Prince, Jehnah Hankaku. The charge is Blasphemy against the goddess Astarte. As per records, prior to Jantar Hankaku’s reign as Merchant Prince of his family, the Hankaku family had faced severe financial and social trouble. Their status as a Princely family had fallen, and the previous Priestess, had been discussing withdrawing their title and passing it to a branch family. However, Jantar had carried several events and made several donations to Astarte, following which, he obtained the Priestess’s blessing, and the Hankaku family once again rose to prominence.”

Jenia frowned in confusion. It was like this guy was reading from about their family history. What did that have to do with the charge upon him?

The Speaker paused for a few seconds before speaking again, “Our Priestess speaks for the Goddess within her belly; Jantar Hankaku’s actions were not motivated by devotion, but greed and desire, to obtain wealth for himself and his family. Such is the disrespect he has perpetrated against our goddess.”

Jenia shook her head in disbelief and glanced at her brother who wore a similar expression on his face. What was this? Did they not even intend to present a case? Every single word was baseless! Even with the Priestess’s backing, there was no way they could present something like that!

The Speaker had continued as she was considered all those points, “The Priestess, in all her kindness and generosity, has no desire to take away the titles or the Wealth of the Hankaku family, but what shall be demanded is the execution of Jantar Hankaku. Knowing the charges against you, how do you plead?”

The last words were present to their father. Jenia felt a smile tingle on her lips. Innocent. There was no other choice! They had no case! There was nothing to worry-

“Guilty”

Oh, how her blood ran cold.

The Crowd’s sudden hubbub. Her mother’s scream of fear, shock and sadness. It all mirrored the feelings she had within her chest.

What was wrong with him? Her father? This… this brave, kind man? He was accepting this crime? He was accepting the charge of Blasphemy? She shook her head, he couldn’t have… This was the worst crime… he wouldn’t just be executed. He would be tortured. His body would not be buried. He would be disposed of like trash…

What was he thinking?

Jehnah ran forward and gripped his father’s shoulder, “Father! What are you… What are you saying?!”

Jantar lowered his eyes and spoke clearly, “I accept the charges that have fallen on me. I will accept my punishment for my transgressions against our god, and I hope… That my family will be spared from any pain I would have caused them.”

He spoke the last line, looking straight at Obina. His eyes were hard and angry, like Jenia had never seen before. Wait… Didn’t that speaker just state that only he would be executed? So why did he want to ensure their safety?

She turned to Obina and stared at her. The smile on her face was thin and almost evil…

*

Oh, her stomach hurt…

Obina struggled to hold the pained smile on her face. She was so hungry… and thirsty… Her body felt too hot… Sweat was gathering underneath the folds of her fat.

She wanted this to be done with quickly… But there was procedure to be observed. She listened to her attendant speak for her. She already knew how this was going to play out. Jantar Hankaku would accept the guilty status of his own free will and he would let himself die.

Why?

Because, she had talked to him.

She had him brought to her hall, the day before. It was a secret meeting that no one knew of. The man had been rather cocky and sure of himself… No, he wasn’t cocky. He was sure. He was a shrewd, cunning and intelligent man. Jantar Hankaku. People who didn’t know him properly, would assume that he merely used the Temple to increase the strength of his family, but he did so much more than that…

But that didn’t matter.

She wanted her attendant to speak for her but this meeting took place with the fewest number of attendants possible, so straining her voice was unavoidable. She opened her mouth and her first words were raspy, “Oouu… You, are to be… put on… trail tomorr… tomorrow…”

Jantar’s eyes narrowed as she spoke, “I don’t believe I have ever heard your voice before… It is deeper than I expected… and clearly wounded…”

Obina frowned, “Are you… insulting me?”

Jantar shook his head, “I am just stating facts… May I ask you… why I was summoned here?”

Obina’s eyes narrowed slightly, before she spoke, “The charges… that… are against you… are flimsy.”

He nodded, “I am aware.”

Obina gritted her teeth, but continued speaking, “I… I want you to… plead… Plead guilty.”

Jantar frowned, “Why?”

What an odd man… His first statement is not, refusal, but a question… How very odd…

Obina began to weakly tug at the taut skin of her belly, before turning to her attendants, who bowed and rushed off the prepare her meal.

Jantar watched the entire scene with rapt attention, “I always admire the priestess’s capability to communicate without words.”

Obina turned to him and smirked, “Do you… know why… why I am not… supposed to speak?”

Jantar shrugged indifferently, “I cannot say I do.”

Obina’s stomach groaned loudly, and the stench of salt and ammonia began to fill the room as she relieved herself, but she ignored it, “A goddess… should not have… to speak her desires… the ones who serve… serve her should… be perfect… and understand her words… without her saying…”

Jantar’s nose had wrinkled with irritation at the smell, as another attendant moved forward to clean her, “I… see… You want me to die… so that you can torment my daughter, is that not correct?”

Obina said nothing as the woman cleaned her nether regions… Hmmm… That felt rather nice… To be clean, even if it was only a bit…

Jantar sighed, “You want me to die for your own pleasures… and if I do not, I am quite sure, you have many other ways to torment her…” He shifted his hands in irritation, “I am aware of a number of them… that would be far, far worse than if I were to die…”

Oh? He was much smarted and knowledgeable than she first assumed. He knew a lot it seemed…

He sighed, “May I have your word that you will not harm her, if I agree to die?”

Jantar Hankaku. A shrewd, cunning and intelligent man. But everything he did, he did for his family.

For he loved them, with all his heart.

 

And he would die for them, if he had to.

*

Kani Hankaku was sobbing in her room, softly. She had not come out in two days. Food had been brought to her room, but she refused to eat anything.

Her Mother weighed heavily on her mind. Jenia sat in her room, as her attendants slowly brushed her long, glossy hair. She felt vain for doing something like this on the day her own father was to be executed. She felt terrible. She felt… weak.

An attendant came up to her, carrying a small pot of scented oil for her hair and her body. Her large belly and sagging breasts, were obviously under a great deal of strain, so she had to oil her skin, before leaving the house. It wasn’t like she liked to do this every day. But if she didn’t she’d regret it.

She sighed deeply, as the oil was massaged over her body. Everything had begun to lose control in their family now.

Her marriage… The Marriage she had been looking forward to for so long now… Had been cancelled. The Shnid family would not have anything to do with the Hankaku family anymore. Few families, would. The once-head of the family had been accused and convicted of Blasphemy. Any honour they once had was falling away like cliffs of chalk against the sea.

The only reason they still had attendants, was because they were able to pay them. People would not do business with them, but they weren’t a Merchant Prince’s family for nothing. They had a great deal of financial support that could last them a long time. With any luck, after this Jehnah could rebuild the family again…

Hopefully. 

She let out a soft moan of pleasure as her attendants gently massaged her body with the oil. The scent of those rare jasmine flowers wafted up to her nose… Oh, she loved this oil… It made her so… calm…

She sighed peacefully, as her attendants began to braid her hair. Normally, she never braided her hair. She left it loose and free, even as she would dance. It would weigh her down, but that didn’t matter. 

Today… She didn’t want anyone else around her.

Today… she wanted to accept her father’s death alone.

She didn’t want to do anything with anyone…

She felt the heavy gold clips being inserted into her thick, heavy locks. Oh, it was heavy… It was so heavy…

She slowly stood up and admired herself in the bronze mirror. Her skin seemed to shine… It was shining. The oil made her skin shine. She held out her hands as her attendants began to drape her body with clothing. She had specifically chosen a rather loose dress. It did not accentuate her figure, or make her stand out, in any particular way. Rather, it concealed her attractive body. Granted, the outfit itself was rather unique, but if she wore her normal attire, she’d stick out, like a raven among doves.

She stared at herself briefly in the mirror. She didn’t look anything like her father… But her brother was a literal copy of him… but their personalities differed so much…

She sighed and shook her head. Someone like her father, would not just plead guilty like that… No, Jenia was quite sure that he had been coerced into it. That Priestess… she had… She had forced him. She had used something or the other, and forced him to obey her.

Jenia knew that. The Priestess was just toying with him. With them. She used her status and power, to do as she pleased… And they couldn’t stop her.

Jenia felt a heavy blade of fear, poke her heart. She wanted to just go and beg the priestess. To spare him. Spare her father. But… Her father would not accept that. If he was saved in that way… He’d lose all honour. Jenia would prefer life to honor, but not him. And Jenia wouldn’t be able to stand it, if her father hated her.

There was only one way this would end up.

She felt the thick, heavy tears stream down her face and stain her loose robe. They were so… so very warm.

Like the warmth of a father, embracing his child.

*

There were certain buildings in Sarnah. They were more of Monuments, rather than Buildings.

Monuments to the Goddess, Astarte.

The primary “monument” was the Temple of Astarte. The Temple held several different chambers, and halls. It was the residence of the Goddess herself, who lived with the Priestess.

But there were other monuments as well.

The next, most important one, was the Arena.

The Arena was used for certain ceremonies and rituals. Such as festivals.

And executions.

Jenia and Jehnah slowly stepped from the palanquin. They had arrived early… Very early. There were few people in the arena, at the moment. If they came when the common people were… Jenia shuddered to think of the ideas. 

She paused outside, glancing at the stone marvel. There were so many idols… of Astarte, and other lesser deities. Astarte, the mother of all.

Everything they did was to be in her name.

Jenia wanted to believe that. She really did.

But Astarte never show herself before her. Before anyone. All they had was, stone and words.

Jenia looked forward and slowly walked into the Arena with her brother. Until she truly knew that Astarte existed, she would not believe in her.

And at this moment, she had no faith in her at all.

*

Jantar Hankaku was not a man who scared easy. He had a strong sense of self and a equally strong sense of will. He could not be broken easily. He would not be broken easily.

But right now… He felt unnerved. He did not like this feeling. It made him irritated, and being irritated made him angry. And his anger began to displace his stability. Was this what if felt like? To be at death’s door?

The chains that bound his hands were tugged and he followed them slowly. He would not bend. Not here. Not now. He walked with his back rigid, and straight. But how his heart felt in his chest… It wouldn’t stop… Like a drum during a festival…

Like the feet of the crowd coming to watch him die.

He winced as he walked from the tunnel and into the light of the arena and into the cries of anger and delight. The entire arena was full. Not a single seat was empty, and every person was screaming. Some were insulting him. Some were crying for blood and death. All wanted death.

He glanced around and noticed other prisoners being brought through other paths… So… It was a groups execution, huh? Well, he didn’t expect much more. It would be easier on the Priestess… Oh, the mere thought of his death, once again sent into a flurry of irritation and instability.

Damn it… Damn it all to hell…

There were led to the north end of the Arena and Jantar gazed upon the alter of his demise. It was a strange looking thing. It was actually several separate alters, over one common podium. Each alter would hold one person… seven of these minor alters were arranged in a circle, with a single one in the centre. The centre alter was raised slightly higher than the rest.

Each of this minor alters was composed of 6 different platforms; A large one with five smaller ones surrounding it… Designed to supported a human body. The Large one would hold the torso, and the smaller ones would hold his head, hands and feet… His forearms, Elbows along with his calves, knees and thighs would be suspended over half a foot of open air…

He swallowed, as the thought of his death flooded his mind again.

Oh, he really didn’t want to die…

Was there anyone who ever chose to die? It was always circumstance that forced someone to die. No one ever called it upon themselves.

He sighed deeply as he was led to the central alter… So he was the main dish… The Knights around him, forced him to lie on the central platform, before shackling his body to the ground. He winced in pain… The platforms were uneven. His torso was held at least half a foot above his limbs.

… Well, this was terribly uncomfortable…

He felt the cold metal brace latch around his neck. Ah, he couldn’t even raise his head now… His eyes swivelled around in his head, as he watched the other prisoners being latched the ground just as he was. Poor bastards… He wondered what they had done, to merit the same punishment as him…

Jantar was aware of a minor cult that had emerged in recent years, that went against the some teachings of Astarte. Because, it recognized some of the teachings, it was not counted as blasphemy, but it came close… Maybe, they were part of that cult? He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It didn’t really matter. Not to him anyway.

He could hear the screams pick up… He opened his eyes and sighed once more, in resignation.

Looks like the Priestess was here…

*

Obina frowned in irritation. She hated being carried around. These platforms didn’t have any sides, and it felt like she could fall off at any moment. Not to mention, the fools carrying it, could barely hold it steady. It felt like her organs were sloshing around inside her.

…That could just be the beer, she had before coming…

In any case, it was very, very uncomfortable. Her stomach grumbled once more, after growling just a few seconds ago. The hunger was growing and becoming painful… She wanted to eat…

But it was time…

She winced in pain as the light hit her. She wasn’t used to natural light. Due to her size, and incredible bulk, she rarely moved from her hall, let alone the temple. So, being in the arena was a different experience, albeit, not a very pleasant one. The sun seemed to burn her pale skin, but the warm wind felt kind to her.

Hmm… The weather felt right… A sleepy smiled crossed her face, as she gazed upon the thousands of people screaming… For her. For Judgement. Oh, it felt glorious.

She felt the platform beneath begin to warm up in the sun. She tskked in irritation. Gold became too hot too fast. She’d be in a lot of pain, if she came back one this… Her wooden platform would be better… She lowered her hand and tapped her thigh a few times, and one attendant responded with, “Yes, Priestess.”

She nodded and they continued to carry her until she was in the centre of the Arena, where a large mechanism was set up. She frowned with distaste. She hated this thing… It was just… She sighed deeply as they lowered her to the ground before the machine. She could see the men ready to set it up… Ohh…

She let out an unintentional groan, but it was unheard amidst the screams of the crowd. She was thankful for that…

Four women and four men approached her, carrying the brace. It was an elaborate item; made with gold, silk and precious stones, while being reinforced with a special but rare metal, that was stronger than iron and steel combined. It was designed to withstand weights that were ten-times her own. She was not worried about that… But…

It felt strange as they handled her body. She barely moved herself as it was, so for them to move her so much to attach the brace around her, was rather unsettling, but not painful. The pain would come…

She let out a loud “Oomph!” as they tightened the brace. There was a heavy, polished steel plate on the front that covered her breasts, and it did nothing to relive the pressure on her. The brace was tight. She could feel it constrict the blood flow from her limbs. That heavy coldness was already settling in… She glared at the operators of the mechanism. They’d better know not to prolong this bloody affair…

She winced as they began to lift her body into the air, gritting her teeth in an attempt to not crying out. It hurt… IT FUCKING HURT! The Mechanism had one purpose; To lift her up, and use her own body as a weapon, to crush this insolent fools who went against her will… But why the FUCK did it have to hurt so much?!?

Damn this to fucking hell… She felt the mechanism move, as it carried her. Oh… her breasts and belly hang loosely from her body like massive sacks of sand and water. They made heavy slaps as they swung freely… Even with this fucking breast plate, her breasts hung like this… It hurt so much…

Her body was swung, like a ball on a chain, and her body flew over the crowd and she stared down at the ignorant masses. How happy they looked. She smiled weakly at them. They all thought she would bless them… Ha. They had no idea. What fools.

She could feel the sweat fall from her face and body as she was swung over the crowd a second time. There was so much… it was must have been like rain… She could see so many open their mouths to catch the foul liquid. Ugh! How revolting! What did they think she was? Some goddess?

… Well, she was supposed to carry Astarte in this massive belly of hers… As the mechanism came to halt, she weakly tapped her belly. Hey Astarte. Just digest and give me all your power. Obina smirked. She’d be able to use it better that some stupid god who never even came out of someone’s belly.

She felt the mechanism move slowly towards the north of the Arena… Ah, yes… the Prisoners. She glanced at them… All eight were full. And Jantar Hankuku was in the centre! How delightful! She smiled at him despite her pain, and she saw him smile back… That bastard… He was getting cocky despite his position… Nay, it was probably because of his position that he was being so cocky. Hmpf. She’d show him soon enough…

She glanced at the other prisoners around him… Hmmm… Seven… Oh, this was going to be an ordeal… Oh? Three were women. Well, that was a relief. Women’s executions were always easier on her body… But, it would be better to just start with men. Save the best for last.

She pointed at one man, and hoped that the operators of the mechanism understood. As her body was positioned, she smiled with relief. They did understand… How wonderful…

The Man below her, was a scrawny person. He was trembling with fear, and sobbing softly. It seemed like he was praying… How pitiful… Her body was lowered gently until she was ten feet above him, and she came to a stop with a jerk, and she groaned as her body jiggled with the force. Her insides were gurgling… Oh, she didn’t feel good… Wait…

The Operators dropped her body. She felt like a rock over the man, who cried out with fear, as her massive flabby smothered him. The Heavy steel plate feel over his head, and squashed it like an egg. There was a sudden explosion of blood, bone and flesh underneath her body and the cries of the crowd, went up in crescendo.

The sudden stench of blood made her gag. Oh god… that was foul… Her belly continued to gurgle painfully. Ohhh… She felt a sudden “splurt” from her rear as shit began to flow from her body. Oh… Oh… that felt better… She could thick heavy logs of shit fall from her ass.

Oh… Shit… She just… before everyone…She glanced up, and the screams hadn’t stopped. Huh? That was a surprise… Maybe they assumed it was part of the program? She felt her body being pulled up and she groaned again and this time, she heard herself cry out in pain. She could feel the sticky blood drip from her breasts. It was trickling down, over the top over her belly… That felt strange…

Hm? Wait… She could feel the pressure build up in her belly again. She had… She had to shit again… Wait… The brace? The Brace was pinching her body… She couldn’t… She couldn’t shit! Fuck… Fuck! The Pressure… It hurt! FUCK! This hurt more than the fucking brace! She had to… She to go fast!

Her body was moved quickly, over the second victim. Shit still dripped from her legs. The Pressure was so high… It was trying to force itself out from her crack, but the only thing that came out was a thin watery extract… Her body suddenly felt loose as she fell over the second person, and she sighed with relief as the shit burst out of her body like a cannon. Literally. It felt flying. Oh… that felt good. She didn’t even notice the body being crushed under her.

She sighed with relief as her body was lifted for the third victim. Oh, there was no pressure this time… Hmmm, that felt good… That felt really good-

She let out a great cry as her body crashed over the next victim, but her body had been placed badly. Her stomach fell over their head, not her breasts. She roared in pain and agony. Her breast plate hit the ground and sent a heavy tremor running through her body. This… FUCKING… ASSHOLE! She glared at the operator, who had the look of intense feel painted over his face.

She glanced at her attendants and then at the Operator, and her meaning was clear.

Kill him.

Her attendants rushed forward, pulling out their swords as the operator fell to his knees begging for his life. His words fell on deaf ears, as the attendants took hold of his shoulders and pulled him to his feet before gutting him, like a fish… Hmmm… She could go for some fish now…

Another attendant took the operator’s place and proceeded to lift her in the air slowly. Obina groaned in pain. Her belly felt sore… She glanced down, and saw the dead body below her. Hmmm… no crushed head, but that broken neck, was just as good. She glanced at her belly and winced at the massive bruise that was blooming on her, before sighing and pointing to the final man.

Bear up with it… Just bear up with it… She could do this. She just had to be positioned properly… She felt her body drop and the familiar weight being compressed beneath her breast plate, as the weak, and sad prayers came to an end. Perfect. She smiled peacefully and signalled. It was time to break. The first act was over…

*

Jenia was shaking uncontrollably as she watched from her booth. She was huddling against her brother, who was shaking like her, but in addition he was sobbing softly. Her father… their father… he would be executed like that?

Oh… Oh… if only there was some merciful god… If only…

She didn’t want him to die… Not like that at any rate… She wanted to beg for his life… But… was there any chance here? She felt tears drip from her face as well, and Jehnah, pulled her closer. This was all they could do… Just watch.

Just watch as their father would die before them.

*

Obina sighed with relief as she was placed on the ground. Oh, that was better… She felt herself being propped up by her cushions and stands, and she felt the brace being loosed over her body, but not removed. She glanced at the massive bruises over her belly. They had already begun to emerge… Ugh… they hurt so much…

She opened her mouth once before closing it. She was hungry… She wanted to take advantage of this break. She was thankful that this program always had this break. She let out a peaceful moan as an attendant cleaned the shit from her body. The blood would remain until the execution was over… She sighed at that. It didn’t kill her appetite, but it was a distasteful sight…

She smiled happily as a train of food was carried into the Arena where she was sitting. The heavy stench of butter, oil and grease made her feel relaxed, as her body began to scream for food.

The foul scent of blood and gore, was soon consumed by the fresh food, as she began to gorge herself. The thick heavy food, slid down into her belly and she found herself smirking again. She wondered if Astarte enjoyed being smothered with fat and chewed up food & drink. She opened her mouth for the beer and enjoyed the heavy bitterness as it ran down her throat… Oh, this was infused beer… There was a refreshing sweetness on the end… This was the good stuff…

Obina sighed peacefully. Her mood was improving with this meal… She felt someone massage her belly and she let out another peaceful moan, glancing down at the person.

Hm? This was… a commoner? Wait… There were at least half a dozen, groping her body and dozens more around her, waiting… Oh, yeah… Obina closed her eyes as the people continued to fondle her body. This was part of the break… She was supposed to be exerting some incredible presence at the moment, which people wanted to take in.

Let them do as they please… It wasn’t like it hurt… And as long as she could eat, she would be-

She let out a roar of anger and pain, as one fool began to grope her bruised stomach. That… ignorant… Ass! She glared at the people… Fuck, there were too many of them… she didn’t know which one did it… Shit…

She didn’t close her eyes again, as she ate and drank. She kept them focused on these people, who were around her. She wanted to make sure none of them tried to act smart again…

The food went down her throat like a waterfall. The warm, mellow flavour of butter, and the sickly, stench of grease, was all she could feel. It made her feel so good. Her belly gurgled happily as it struggled to digest her immense meal. She rubbed her belly a few times… She must have grown a bit, since before this entire debacle…

She felt the brace beginning to tighten around her body again, as she closed her eyes and waited for the pain to set in… Oh… A dizzy smile split her face. The Beer… Dulled her senses… How nice… and welcoming. 

She felt her body swing limply over the crowd once more, and she didn’t even feel upset. Let them cheer. Let them drink her sweat. Let them eat her shit for all she cared. It didn’t matter one bit to her. Nothing mattered… Except the death of those below her.

She stared down at the women. Now for the second act…

She felt her body being lowered slowly. Women had to die in a different manner. Men were lucky. They died quick. She felt a sickly smile on her face, as she thought about it. This was her second execution. The time before, there were only five people, and she was only half her present weight. There had only been one woman… and she felt so good, as she died.

So delicious…

And this time, there were three.

She felt her belly dangle over the first woman, who was sobbing softly. She wasn’t praying. She must have understood that no god was coming to save her… No, “God” was the one killing her. The irony made her laugh. She felt her belly brush over the woman’s face… Oh, yes… Yes… Yes…

She felt her body fall over the woman softly. She could feel the woman’s heavy breaths, inside her belly… It was like she was in her belly. Like a baby… Or Astarte… She could feel the woman’s breathing pick up speed as she struggled. She could feel her body begin to shake, as her body was deprived of the air, she so desperately needed…

Oh, this was wonderful… If only she could kill men like this…

She moved her hand, and she felt her body rise up. She could hear the woman gasp for breath, before exploding into tears, and laughter… Oh, she thought, she was being spared? Obina felt her own body rasp for breath, as she attempted another laugh, before she moved her hand again, and her body descended over the woman again.

This time, she didn’t move until the woman stopped shaking. She remained over her for a full five minutes after that, listening to fragile bones snap, and organs squish. When she was lifted, the body was still recognizable as human. But it was a violent shade of purple and black. Limbs were twisted and the once, beautiful face was frozen in a pained gasp, in its final struggle for life.

Obina grinned as she stared at the corpse. This one was so much better than the ones before… She smiled at the next woman, feeling the drool, slip from her lips. Oh, she was so excited… two more of these… She could hardly wait.

The Second woman, was weak. Before, she could even lift her body once, Obina could hear the bones shatter, as she died. Because of that, she was extra careful with the last woman. She played with her, for as long as she could; smothering, and releasing her. She wished she could do more… But then… She sighed sadly, as the woman struggled to breath under her massive flab. What a pity they couldn’t have more fun…

Oh well…

She felt her body being lifted off the corpse slowly… Hmmm… Not as good as the first. Neither were. What a shame… She had hoped for so much more… She pouted angrily… The only one left was…

Jantar Hankaku.

She had forgotten about him. How silly. She felt her body being lowered to the ground for the final break. She hated this break… There was no food… Her belly was already rumbling. Those death struggles, made her even hungrier and she wanted food…

She wanted food…

She wanted food…

She gritted her teeth. Her body was not like others. She needed food… Now… Now…

“NOW!”

Her voice burst into a hoarse roar. Food…

“FEED ME!” She burst into a fit of sickening coughs as she screamed. She could hear the crowd scream with delight. She needed food… She knew this was part of the ritual… She had to be hungry… She was supposed to be hungry… But still…

“In the name of Astarte! You will feed me! Feed me or die, you fools-”

The sudden splash of water, was… well, sudden. It was cold… It was so cold… Even with her blubber, she could feel the cold seep into her body… She was about to scream in anger, but she was drowned in another bucket of water. She could feel the warm sticky blood, slide from her body pulling the bits of gore and bone with it.

The blood on her body was being washed off… but the stench… that fucking Stench! It wasn’t going… It wasn’t going! She screamed in anger, as another wave of water washed over her body, and the screams of the crowd only became louder…

She screamed in rage. Her wrath was unbridled, like a raging stallion avoiding capture. She was hungry… She was cold… but the sun was baking her slowly… this…

The scream that emanated from her body was powerful. More powerful than anything she had ever done. One could feel the true force in it. It was tortured scream, but it was so powerful. The crowd’s scream was as loud as it could ever be…

And then the crowd died away. The only thing that could be heard was Obina’s screams of pain and her stomach’s unnaturally loud groans. And then, a soft hymn slowly built up… A hymn to Astarte.

A hymn to the goddess, who had emerged with the Priestess’s pain.

Obina felt her starving body being lifted into the air, and she saw herself being hung over Jantar and she frowned with anger and distaste. It was time for the final act.

*

Sweat was dripping from his body slowly. A combination of heat and fear, was making him… unsettled.

Unsettled was an understatement.

The fervour of the crowd, with the Priestess’s sudden tantrum was unnerving. No matter how much, he had steeled himself, he was not prepared for that sudden outburst. He knew he had no chance of escaping… yet, he felt so shaken.

It was not the fear of prey being cornered by the predator.  

It was the fear of power.

He could see the true power, she held over the people. Even in her rage, the people would worship her…

He closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to see the massive form looming above him. He didn’t want to see his oncoming demise. He had wanted to accept his doom, proudly. He didn’t want to cower like this… Like a rat.

He opened his eyes, and felt soft tears, trail from one eye. Ah… He really didn’t want to die.

*

Obina practically spat at Jantar. She could see fear in him. It was not the normal kind of fear. It was a “proud” fear. He had seen his own insecurity, but he had accepted it. He would not run from it. Not that he could.

She hated that. She wanted him to feel complete despair. She wanted him to cry in fear and terror, as he died under her…

And he would.

She felt her body shift slowly. He was accused of Blasphemy. He wouldn’t die fast, like the others. He would die in pain.

A lot of pain.

She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to mock him. She was doing all that in her mind. She had so many phrases practised… but she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to… But this FUCKING BRACE! She could barely breathe and her heavy stomach was beginning to hurt her. The bruised skin felt like it might tear open… Oh god…

The more she thought about the pain, the more pronounced it seemed to become. She gritted her teeth in anger and pain. Fuck this… She felt her body spin slowly, as she was positioned. She had done this only once before… and this was always the worst part of the ceremony.

She felt her body drop, and her breasts feel over his left arm, and the loud crack of bone, was drowned by the screams from both, herself and Jantar. Her stomach… Her stomach…

It had been cushioned by the other victims before, save the one. But now, she had nothing to cushion her. Just stone. Raw Stone, that stung her already wounded belly like a million bees. She could feel the scream tearing at her weak vocal chords, but she had no other way to express her pain.

She glanced at Jantar for a few seconds, and took a meagre amount of pleasure from his own pain. She could see him writhe in pain, as his hand was crushed under her terrible mass. It wouldn’t just be broken. It would be shattered. It would be pureed. There would no way to tell that it was once a human hand.

She felt thick bile build up in her throat as the force from the impact, combined with the sickly scent of blood, hit her. Oh god… She wanted to puke… She wanted to…

She swallowed once painful and felt the sensation die away. That was better, but she wasn’t confident that she could hold it in for the entire execution… Well, it wasn’t like she had to… But it was unpleasant none the less…

She felt her body rise up once more, and she moaned as her own heavy gut, practically exploded in flames to her. The stagnant air, hurt her more than the stone… Fuck this hurt… She hated who ever thought of this idea for execution…

She felt her body move once more, slowly. Now for the Right arm.

*

Jenia sobbed softly and she covered her eyes. She couldn’t watch. Not this. Not this.

This was her fault. All her fault. She killed her father. If only she had listened to this fucking priestess…

No… No, she wasn’t in the wrong. The fucking priestess was. That fucking woman… She was a… Jenia screamed at the top of her lungs, but her voice was masked by the deep hymns of the people. She wanted that bitch to die… She wanted her to die…

She wanted to kill her. But… she felt to her knees as she sobbed. What could she do? Someone like her? She had no power. Just her looks, and that counted for nothing, when the entire country would hate them.

She heard another loud crash, and felt her own sobs deepen, knowing that father was still suffering in this agony. This wasn’t an execution… this was torture.

*

Jantar could feel his scream rip through his throat as the fucking bitch was pulled off his arm. He could feel the nub of bone rub against the sad puddle of flesh that was once his arm.

Fucking Shit… This was hell. He couldn’t think of anything else. The pain… the pain was too great. It was shredding his mind into a thousand little pieces.

The stench of his own entrails, made him want to throw up… This was inhuman… He struggled weakly against the shackles on his feet. His arms were as good as ripped off, and were only connected to him by a few strips of flesh, and as they tugged on him, he was driven into deeper agony.

The lights of life were dancing before him. Everything was getting blurry… He wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive. Maybe a few more minutes? His body felt cold as his warm blood began to pool around him. Oh… This was…

He could hear the machinery, lifting up the priestess, amidst the humming crowd. Those clanking gears and creaking ropes and clinking chains…

Those monotonous sounds. He couldn’t see anything… It was a giant blur… Everything felt fuzzy….

Suddenly those gears, and ropes and chains… and that immense crash… And he could feel himself shriek with pain, as his right leg was crushed under that fat, obese priestess. Oh god… Oh god… Forgive him… Fuck everything… He coughed painfully and felt the flavour of sour iron taint his lips.

Those sounds… those clanks and creaks… Like bells ringing for his death.

*

Hana was a young girl. Her family was not a very important family. Her mother was a maid for the Shnid family. She didn’t know who her father was. Her mother didn’t want to talk about him, and Hana didn’t care about him either. He had left them about a year back. She had been 5 then, and her mother had been pregnant with her little sister.

Hana was holding her sister right now. Her mother couldn’t come because, she had to work. But they were all devoted to the Shnid family. She felt it was her duty to watch this man die. She had no personal feelings to him. But he tried to trick the noble Shnid family into marrying into his filthy, blasphemous family… How revolting.

She held her sister close to her bosom and hummed in her chest, with the rest of the crowd as they prayed to Astarte. Ah… She watched the Priestess rise into the air. That beautiful woman. The pinnacle of beauty, strength, kindness and intelligence. The goddess on Earth…

She smiled happily as the Priestess crushed that cunning bastard’s final limb, and listened to his screams echo through the arena over their prayers. She could see the Priestess scream as well… Perhaps she was in pain? Because she had to take the lives of these people?

Ah… What a beautiful woman… She placed one hand over her own slim abdomen. If only she could look that beautiful…

*

Obina was forcing herself to scream, ignoring the terrible pressure on her body. She could feel the blood dripping off of her. Not just Jantar’s blood… Her own as well. Her bruised skin had finally split and she could feel the shallow wound eat at her nerves.

The heavy sickness in her belly was beginning to take its toll on her. She could feel the heavy bile work its way up her throat, only held back by the brace… She glanced down at the half-dead man… She was quite sure, he wasn’t going to survive much longer… His senses were probably consumed with pain. She watched him cough painfully, and bright red dribbled from his mouth.

Oh yes… He was almost dead. She didn’t even have to crush him once more… but… She felt her body dangle painfully above him, for a few seconds before falling over him. His arms were gone. His legs were gone. He was as good as dead. Even if survived the blood loss, he’d be a cripple.

So, he should be happy now. She’d put him out of his misery.

She felt her body crash over his torso, and saw a fountain of blood burst from his mouth, just as the pressure vanished from her chest and throat, and a river of vomit and bile burst from her own mouth, over the corpse of Jantar Hankaku.

She continued to vomit for a few minutes as all the food she had eaten before spilled out of her massive belly. Ughhhh… The faint acid from her belly burnt the back of her mouth. It was painfully. Her belly and breasts were stinging. Her body felt so sore. If she could move, her body would probably be twitching, with agony. She was glad that most sensation from her body had been killed, with the growth of her body.

As the stream of vomit died, she found herself spitting, the remnants of the foul liquid from her mouth. She couldn’t spit properly, and found a great deal was dribbling from her lips. She stared down at the pained face of the shell, that was once Jantar Hankaku. Hm. Pitiful.

She smiled weakly, as her attendants began to rush up to her and began to shift her gently, from over the corpse. Hunger was beginning to gnaw at her insides again, but the throbbing pain, dulled the hunger. It was a strange sensation…

She felt them gently rub her sore body with warm water, and warm alcohol… The alcohol was scented, with limes and roses… She wasn’t particularly fond of roses, but the scent calmed her raging heart. She hiccupped once, and felt a shallow dish being placed at her lips, and she drank from it… Cool Water… It felt so good…

Gently her body was massaged; like a mother taking care of her infant child… She saw one woman bring another dish towards her, and the other attendants stepped back, as she presented the dish before her… A dark red liquid… Blood. Obina’s nose wrinkled at the scent. She knew what she had to do… She nodded and the dish was placed at her lips and drank it, painfully. Oh, ugh… The sour flavour… it was not unpleasant in small does, but as it ran down her throat, she felt sick once more…

But through some miracle, she didn’t throw up again. Ugh… A third dish was presented before her, once more with water, and she drank thankfully, enjoying the dark taste of blood being washed from her mouth.

She drank gratefully, enjoying the flavour, or rather the lack of flavour of the water. It was close bliss. She felt the attendants swarm her once more, as they began to rub a thick, aromatic salve over her wounds and bruises, before bandaging them. Hmmm… the bandages had been warmed… it felt nice against her skin…

Mmm… the smell of food, was wafting towards her… Oh, yes… this was the final part… once last meal, and then, this fucking event would be over. The crowd was no longer humming, or praying, but they weren’t doing anything else either. They were waiting… Ah, yes. Once she ate, they would all be fed as well. They had nothing else to do now but wait.

There was a heavy beat. Then another. And another. Then the trumpets. And then the rest of the instruments joined in. Ah… They were dancing. Obina chuckled softly as she watched the entire crowd jump to their feet and spin around in joy as they danced. How amusing… young and old… Mothers held their infants and lovers held each other, as they all danced with joy.

She smiled deeply, as they massive platters of food were brought before her, and she began to gorge herself once more. Ah… This was better…

Neither she, nor anyone else, bothered with the corpses that were all around her.

*

Jenia and Jehnah was sitting in the main study of their house, in silence. Neither was saying anything, nor did they want to say anything. Both were holding short stemmed glass, with wide bodies, filled to the brim with a dark red liquor.

Jenia glanced at her brother, and frowned sadly. Their father had been executed, around six months ago. They had watched his corpse being taken beyond the town, to be disposed of. They had no idea what happened to it. Jenia assumed they fed it to scavengers, but she had no evidence… Not that she wanted it.

In these six months, everything had begun to fall apart. No one would buy or sell from their family. No one would even consider business with the Hankaku family, now that they were associated with a blasphemer. Luxuries, or necessities; nothing was bought from their traders.

They were barely even counted among the Royal families anymore.

Jenia swirled the drink in her glass for a few seconds before downing everything in one gulp. She slumped in her chair and massaged her gravid belly… Her belly no longer held the same smoothness or mass it had a mere six months ago. Her skin had become rougher, but her hair… her hair was the same.

Her ran her hand through her delicate hair. It was sign of her status… A status she still held. Even if it was by the tips of her fingers… She wanted to hold onto this status…

It was all that had now.

Her stomach gurgled and she winced in pain. Since everything had been falling apart, her diet had not been the best. Both she and her brother had fallen into drinking. Her mother… Her mother had just shut herself in her room. She barely came out anymore…

She massaged her belly gently before slowly rising and refilling her glass. The world seemed to rock slowly as she walked… Hm…

“The Festival is approaching.”

She glanced at her brother and frowned at the words he had spoken, “Festival?”

He nodded softly, “Yes… The Festival to Astarte… The Sacrificial Festival.”

Ah… Understanding dawned on her face as she nodded slowly. The Sacrificial Festival was an event that took place every four years. It was, as its name suggested, a sacrifice to Astarte. It was rather fun event, in all honesty… Families would set up stalls… and families would enjoy themselves… and then…

She glanced at Jehnah, “Are you suggesting setting up a stall, at the festival?”

He shrugged softly, and she sighed. She understood his meaning. Stalls were not exactly a make-or-break deal. They were just for getting a few extra profits. But in their case, the profits from even the smallest deal, was a necessity. Setting up an attractive stall, would help them… but…

“Our family? At a festival for Astarte?”

Her words were not condescending, but they were realistic. If anyone found out their family had set up a stall during the Festival… Well, there may be those who see it as them trying to redeem their family, but then there would be those who see it as Blasphemers using a Goddess for their own gains.

It was a double-edged sword, and both edges were pointed at a different target.

Jenia slumped in her chair, as she continued to massage her pained, gurgling belly, “It’s a big risk… We’d have to pour everything we have to earn some decent profit…”

Jehnah nodded, “And if we fail, we lose everything.”

Jenia laughed softly, “What do we have to lose?”

“Our pride?”

Jenia waved her hand in disgust, “Pride does nothing to fill your stomach. Pride and ego, are worthless, to those who have lost everything…” She glanced at her brother, her eyes like cold iron, “Fine. Let’s set up something. Do whatever we can… Make it… Make it devoted to Astarte and maybe we-”

“There’s no need for that.”

Jehnah and Jenia turned to the new voice, and both their eyes widened at the sight of Kani Hankaku. The Old, fat woman, had lost some of weight. The loose, rolls of skin, were weighing down her body, but she still had a massive body, many times the size of her daughter. Her long hair, was rough, and unkempt, and she looked tired.

“…Mother…”

Kani’s smile was soft and sad, “You two, don’t have to set up a stall. I’ve secured finances for the future…”

Jenia frowned, “How?”

Kani’s smile didn’t change as she spoke, “I’m the Sacrifice.”

Jenia’s blood ran cold at those words. She threw her glass aside and ran to her mother, as it shattered on the floor. Her brother, was just staring, in utter shock and disbelief. Jenia grabbed her mother’s shoulders and began to shake her wildly, screaming in her mother’s face, “You’re lying! You… You wouldn’t do that!”

Kani shook her head, “The family is falling… This will give us some of our original standing back…”

Jenia gripped her hair, “If… If we receive a payment, for giving up _our mother_ as a _Sacrifice,_ do you really think our standing will improve in the slightest?!”

Kani laughed softly, placing her hands at her breast, “I know it will…”

Jehnah slowly rose from his seat, “You… You can’t know that… You can’t know something like that… Not… Not unless…”

Jenia knew what he was trying to say, “Not unless, you had something like that assured yourself!”

Their mother said nothing, as they threw the accusation at her.

Jenia grabbed her mother’s soft delicate shoulders, and shook her gently, “Mother… Mother, what did the priestess promise you? What will she give us, if you give up your life… like father… What is worth your life? What did she promise you?”

The smile that had stained their mother’s lips this entire time, was washed away by those harsh words. Kani opened her mouth and hesitated, “What did… what did she promise…?”

*

“Everything.”

Kani’s eyes widened at the words. She gazed upon the Priestess’s massive form. Her body was wrapped with soft, delicate bandages, concealing the wounds that she had sustained from killing Kani’s husband. Despite that, Kani could not help but admit she was beautiful.

This Priestess, was the most beautiful woman in the country. And at the same time, she was the most foul and disgusting person she knew.

The Priestess’s large mouth, widened into a sickening grin, “I… I will make… sure your… family has everything… Everything it… needs to rise again… Wealth, and fame… The Honour you all… lost, will be… restored… But, I want… you… to be… the Sacrifice…”

Kani blinked and stared, “What… Why?”

The Priestess’s massive body shook, and it took Kani a few seconds to realize that she had shrugged.

Kani blinked, and then glanced at the attendants by the Priestess’s side. They were not soldiers, but they could speak. If she was prosecuted because of her words… Her children… they would suffer, more than they already they were.

But… She had to ask…

“My Husband… He wasn’t a blasphemer, was he?”

The Priestess grinned, and Kani felt her blood run cold. She had not said a word, but that smile spoke a thousand words.

“Why… Why do you hate our family?”

The Priestess’s massive grin faded, and her eyes narrowed, “Your… Your Daught…er… Daughter…”

What? Why did this woman hate Jenia?

“Your… Daughter… Refused… the orders… of Astarte…”

Kani frowned. Jenia knew better than to do that… Unless…

Kani swallowed, “Were… Were those explicit orders?”

No reply.

This… This… Massive slab of flesh and fat… She was no Priestess… She was… She was…

“Will my Family be safe, and wealthy once more, if I die?”

The Priestess… Obina, nodded.

“They will no longer be hunted as the Family of Blasphemers?”

Obina shook her head.

“Then… I will give up my life to you… To Astarte. Everything I have. I will give you-”

*

“Nothing”

Kani’s smile re-emerged sadly as she tilted her head, “Nothing, my sweet child. Astarte will provide for us. Trust me.”

Astarte... would provide…

*

The Festival arrived on time, but Jenia had no desire to go out and attend it. She didn’t care how the people would view her. She had already watched her father die. She would not watch her mother being sacrificed, to that massive monster.

The Knights had come and collected their mother the day before. Kani, had gone without complaint. It hurt to watch her just leave like that…

Jehnah, was working furiously in his room. From the day, their mother told them everything would be fine and “Astarte would provide”, things had been picking up. It was slow, but Jehnah said that in a year or so, they’d be able to make for the losses they made in these six months.

How wonderful…

She gritted her teeth, and gripped her chest painfully. How did he remain so calm right now? Their mother… the woman who had raised both of them from her own breast! She was going to be killed! Murdered, by that foul Priestess, and he… he…

No…

Jenia knew her brother well. He was probably, in more pain than she was. By diving into his work, he was trying hard not to feel that pain. He was trying to respect their mother’s last wish… For their family to be strong again.

She glanced out of the window and stared at the people. Adults and children… so many running around happily. Unaware their object of worship was a monster… Unaware that she was destroying a family…

She closed her eyes softly. She had attended the festival before. She had watched the sacrifice… She knew what was going to happen. Yes… She could see it in front of her eyes right now…

*

Kani was slowly brought out, into the Arena… Hm… it felt fitting… To die in the same place as her husband. She smiled softly to herself. Yes. _Jantar_ … _I’m coming to meet you._

She could almost feel his warm, strong arms embrace her once more…

She was chained to the platform. The same platform, her husband had been on… The Primary platform. Her chains were loose… She could stand quite easily, unlike her husband. Well, a Sacrifice, was not a Prisoner slated for execution.

She glanced to her sides and saw two women there. Young girls. Secondary Sacrifices. Poor dears. They looked so happy, and they were so young. How sad. To die so young. They probably thought they were doing some great deed…

How sad…

She sighed deeply and stared up into the sky as a fanfare was sounded… The Priestess was probably entering…

She looked down from the sky, to the Earth, and smiled sadly at the Priestess. She was still covered in bandages, but apart from that she was nude. Well, at least this time she wasn’t going to injure herself.

*

Obina grinned inwardly. She loved the Festival. It was one of the best times of the year for her. All the food and drink… Oh yes, it was a very enjoyable time.

Every year, three women were “Chosen” by Astarte, to be sacrificed. Obina enjoyed young girls, like the ones before her. They were not rich enough to have a good figure, like herself or Jenia, but one could not deny that their slim bodies held a strange sort of appeal for some.

She grumbled softly as the platform she was being carried on was lowered to the ground. They weren’t very smooth… But that was fine today. Today, she was happy. She was going to enjoy herself, as much as she could.

No Lifts. No Smashing. Just pure pleasure today. She smiled and shivered with delight. Her body began to jiggle slowly, as she shivered.

She glanced to side and blinked at the massive tub that was being wheeled in… Oh yes… She forgot. She was to be bathed first, as would the sacrifices… She frowned in distaste. She was hungry, and she wanted to eat soon. The Sacrificial ceremony was not painful, but it was tedious and long.

Well, at least this time, the water would be pleasant.

A few attendants came forward and gently began to remove her bandages. Obina glanced down at her wounds and winced. There were a number of dark marks, were blood had congealed under her skin, and the large cracking scab, where her skin had split.

Another attendant came forward carrying a large pot, that smelt of herbs and ash. A slave, that would act as a seal against the water. They began to rub it all over her massive belly and Obina frowned in unhappiness. Her belly comprised of a greater part of her body. It was one of the few places that she could feel properly. Her limbs, had little to no sensation. She could barely even move them. If she was going to be bathed gently, with that wonderful, warm, scented water, she wanted to enjoy it completely… She shook her head, as they began to apply the salve, ignoring her demands.

Che- They were probably, appointed by the head attendant. Even if she tried to say something, they wouldn’t stop… Everything they did was to protect Astarte… Her pleasure, and enjoyment was not something they cared about.

The Salve was thick and sticky, like congealed coconut oil, but even thicker. But the scent was rather pleasant. At any rate, it was not unbearable. She sighed in resignation at her belly was covered in the grey paste.

She glanced down at her body as the attendants began to soak thick towels in the scent water tub. She had relieved herself just before coming her, so there should be no accidents… She closed her eyes peacefully, as they began to rub her body gently with the towels, avoiding her belly… Ah, they were cleaning her breasts… Small reliefs… She smiled peacefully… Oh this felt good…

She opened her eyes sleepily, and saw a few other attendants carrying buckets of the same water to the Sacrifices. No, wait… that was the water they were using to clean her. The water that had fallen on her body… She frowned to herself. She had nothing against it, really. But she wondered if there was really anything special about that water… It only seemed like bad hygiene. 

She watched as the Sacrifices were stripped and the water poured over them slowly. The two girls were on their knees, as the water feel on them. They were practically in bliss.

But Kani… She was standing. She wasn’t moving at all. Her eyes were stuck on Obina. She was just staring. Obina shrugged and felt her body jiggle softly. She was used to people staring at her. It came with being the priestess and the biggest, and most beautiful woman in the country. Let her stare. She didn’t have long to live anyway.

She smiled as the attendants stepped away, taking the towels, buckets and everything with them. Ah, now for the good part… Her smile widened into a grin, as three large vats were wheeled in. The heavy bitter scent of alcohol, wafted out of them and into her nose. Oh yes… Her stomach was growling for food, and this… this was going to be so good.

The vats were placed before herself and the two thin girls. Hmm… Perfect. She opened her mouth and the vats were tilted, and a thin steady stream of golden beer began to flow into her mouth, and down to her gut. Oh, this was the good stuff. She loved beer. Of all the things she had to eat, this was one of the best things in her diet. It always made her feel good.

She could vaguely see the other two girls drinking in a similar manner to herself. She wanted to laugh, but she was too busy drinking. Oh, it was always so funny to watch this. Two sacrifices, trying to drink and match the Priestess. They never could and they never would. She had been training for years to reach this point. They had no hope.

Obina had her cavernous belly and in addition, her breathing had been trained for her to eat continuously. It was a difficult skill, that many previous Priestess didn’t have, but she had achieved that skill after a great deal of work and effort. She could feel the liquid gradually filling her stomach, forcing it to expand slowly, and she could hear the weak “glub-glub” of the girls who were no struggling to drink the massive vat of beer. Either they’d drown under to constant flow or they’re stomachs would tear open, under the pressure. Well, there was another option that they might just survive, but that rarely happened… but if they survived, then they would be spared… Hmmm… She was curious to see if they would survive.

She couldn’t see those two sacrifices, but she could hear them just fine. She could hear them drinking deeply in the beginning, under the belief that they could accommodate that massive quantity of alcohol, in their tiny little bellies. She could hear them struggle, when the realized that the alcohol wasn’t ending even though, their bellies had expanded to the size of watermelons. She wanted to laugh, when she heard them struggling to avoid the constant flow, as it fell over their noses and mouths, preventing them from breathing.

Obina felt the last drop of alcohol fall into her mouth, and then then bent her neck to look down at the two girls and almost burst out laughing. She couldn’t hide the grin from her face. Both had terribly distended bellies. So large, that the thinnest veins were visible against their swollen guts. The “sacks” seemed to move with the slightest motions, and Obina could even the see the massive amount of liquid sloshing within their bellies. She could even hear it slosh… Oh, how delightful.

She glanced down at her own body and smiled when she noticed her size. She had definitely grown. Not by much, but it was visible. She raised one weak hand and slapped her swollen gut gently, and watched it quiver softly. Oh, this was wonderful! She might go back to her normal size later, so she’d have to eat some more after this to maintain this growth and-

There was a strange, muffled “snap”. Obina looked up and saw one of the Girls on the ground, beer falling over her limp body. Her belly was shaking as the fluid trapped within it had nowhere to go. She could see blood and alcohol trickling from her mouth… She must have tried to drink it all, and her stomach must have given way… Yes, it seemed that way… Obina could see the liquid clearly within the girl’s abdomen, which had begun to take on a reddish tinge.

She glanced at the other girl and her eyebrows raised with surprise. No more beer was pouring into her mouth, but she was standing. Her body was drenched in the drink, and she had fallen to knees unable to stand due to the terrible weight in her belly. She was gripping her belly and her face was contorted in pain, but there was something else there was well- Pride. She was weakened, but she was alive, and she was proud… How amazing… How interesting.

She wanted that girl.

She raised her hand and an attendant came rushing forward. Obina pointed to the girl and then patted her belly, and the Attendant bowed, understanding the message. Good.

She watched happily as they unchained the girl, and began to gently take her away, to prepare her to be used for Obina’s amusement. She grinned to herself, before glancing at the corpse. Now… She glanced around. Why weren’t they… She frowned irritably.

Ah, that was better. She watched her attendants rush forward and remove the swollen, bloated corpse. What a pitiful sight… Her sister proved to be superior in many ways… how pathetic.

Obina sighed lightly, rubbing her belly as best she could with her senseless limbs. This was rather nice… She glanced at Kani, who was still standing. She could see Kani’s old, plump body shiver slightly, in the warm air, and she breathed deeply, as a tingly warmth spread through her body, from the copious amounts of alcohol in her system.

Hmm… What was supposed to happen with her now…?

Ah… Yes…

*

Kani felt a vague sense of fear crawl over her body. It was not very strong, but it seemed to radiate throughout her body. She watched those two pitiful girls, being inflated, bloated with that precious and expensive alcohol. It felt so strange that they could waste so much like this…

And it felt even stranger that this was only occurring to her now.

She watched the corpse of the second girl, being dragged away. It disgusted her mildly, but only because she was so close to it. Other than that, she only felt a meagre amount of pity. Her emotions felt dulled ever since Jantar had died. The only other people she cared about were her two children. She wanted them to be safe. She wanted them to be happy.

Wealth did not guarantee happiness. Nothing could really guarantee happiness, but certain things could help a lot. And wealth was one of them.

She closed her eyes and felt the warm air brush over her skin. Oh, it felt cold… Was she ready to die? She remembered her husband, as his death neared. She had never seen him as bold and strong as she had then… Could she be that strong? She wanted to be. She truly did.

But she didn’t want to die. No one did. She felt the warm, sticky tears stain her cheeks, as the Priestess was slowly, and carefully carried towards her. Kani glanced to her sides, as the Attendants began to move closer to her, and she nodded softly, moving to lie on the ground.

Oh, she was scared of pain… She wanted to just let everything be easy towards the end…

*

Obina waited silently. She really didn’t have anything else to do. They always had to bring out the knife separately. It was part of the ritual.

She glanced down at her massive gut and frowned. What did her feet look like now? It had been ages since she had felt them, and even longer since she had seen them. Did they still resemble feet? Or did they look like… like… Like what? What would they look like? There could be nothing to compare them to in the world. She sniffed softly. Her beauty was incomparable to anyone… Anyone.

She smiled when she heard the crowd’s constant murmur began to pick up. Yes… The knife was probably being brought out…

Yes. She watched the Attendant walk into her line of sight carrying the blade, on its, and Obina stared at the beautiful object. The blade was made of a bright, sliver metal. It was some sort of alloy, of unknown metals, designed and forged with the utmost care, so that it would never dull, or lose its shine. The handle was made of dark obsidian, and both the blade and handle were inlaid with bright red stones.

It was beautiful object, handcrafted with loving care and awesome power. It was an object worthy of being a national treasure.

It was an object worthy of being used by the Priestess.

Obina smiled softly as the blade was presented to her. Not that she could hold it. Not with her fat, senseless fingers. She let them place it over her gargantuan gut, feeling it’s weight push down on her fat. She stared at it for a few seconds, feeling the sun’s heat warm the blade.

Oh, it was a beautiful object, and it was not the first time, she wished she was holding it. But she accepted reality. She would never hold that blade. She would never hold it in her hands. She would never carve another’s flesh with it. She would never feel the resistance of skin, or the fresh flow of blood, or the strength of bone… She would not feel any of that. So, she would watch. She would listen. She would smell. And she would savour, every last second of it.

Obina nodded and the Attendant came forward carrying a smallish urn, made of dark, red ceramic. She closed her eyes and breathed in as deep as her weak lungs would let her, drawing in that thick heady scent. Within the urn, was a mixture of blood and a certain tonic. The tonic was an alcohol, derived from a certain grain, that was found in the north called Rye. The Alcohol made from it was incredibly strong, but Rye was hard to obtain in Sarnah, and due to this, the Tonic was reserved from special events, like this.

Obina watched the urn being tipped slowly, and the thin red liquid slowly began to flow over the blade, and began to trickle off it onto her belly… Oh, she wanted to drink it… She wanted to drink it bad… She felt her tongue lolling out of her mouth, as she struggled to hold her head back. She swallowed deeply, and closed her eyes, before beginning to mutter a prayer. More than a prayer, it was a blessing; for both the knife and the soul of the Sacrifice.

Not that she cared very much for the sacrifice…

She quickly finished the prayer and nodded once again, and the Attendant who had brought in the blade, lifted it from Obina’s belly and began to make her way to Kani. Oh… Obine felt her heart race. She was getting excited… She loved this part.

*

The Attendant didn’t have a name. None of them had names. They had no need for names, for they severed the Goddess, Astarte’s vessel on this Earth, the Priestess. She had no need to speak to them, and they had no need to speak to her. All they needed was understanding and devotion.

The Attendant gripped the knife in her hand, feeling her knuckles turn white under tension. This was her first time… The year before, had been a different attendant, but this year the role had been given to her… She swallowed deeply. She was so nervous… She glanced down at the knife, staring the oddly beautiful blade. The body held a faint red tinge from its bath of blood and tonic.

She glanced before her, at the Sacrifice, Kani Hankaku. She was an old woman. She had the visible marks of age, as well as an aura of wisdom around her, but despite that, her body held a great deal of youthful beauty, with her lovely round body, and her soft, flabby limbs. Oh yes, there’s no denying that she was beautiful, and if she was younger, she’d have been even more so…

But that didn’t concern her. Kani Hankaku was a Sacrifice. And a sacrifice had only one purpose.

To die.

She stared down at the old woman. Hm… She looked scared. And sad. Why was she sad? She was giving up her life for something glorious… The Attendant closed her eyes and raised the blade, before slowly lowering it. Start from between the breasts… and move down…

She forced to blade down, over the skin, and watched the skin part, almost willingly beneath the blade. There was a soft spray of red blood that fell over the Attendant’s face, that remained impassive and unimpressed, as Kani screamed in pain. This was her first time, killing the sacrifice, but she had seen it done many times before. She was ready for every part. She had practised with animals, and dummies, to make sure she wouldn’t ruin anything. After this, it was a great honour to act as the limbs of the Priestess.

She continued to force the blade down, cutting through the immense amounts of fat. She frowned as she cut deeper, and deeper. There was so much fat… She struggled to cut it away, and move deeper. She hadn’t thought it would be this difficult… Not to mention the sacrifice was still screaming. Why was she still screaming? The Attendant gritted her teeth in irritation. Was it that fat? She hadn’t cut any vital organs, so it wasn’t impossible for Kani to still be alive… But it wasn’t good. She should die faster. Damn it… Damn it… She pulled the blade out for a second before diving back in. The blood was pooling, and it was becoming harder to cut deeper… Damn it… She had to move faster… Faster…

The Attendant felt a harsh grating, and she smiled brightly. Bone. She had reached bone… Thank the Goddess… She pulled the blade out and placed it down on the side, before reaching in with her bare hands to pull the flesh away, as well as trying to stem the blood flow. Yes, she had reached the sternum…

The Attendant pulled out and reached down to her side. There was a strange looking object waiting there. It was made of several pieces of black, steel. It was a heavy instrument… but it was very easy to use… After all, it’s only purpose was to break the sternum, and spread the ribs.

The Attendant placed the instrument within the gaping wound, and Kani’s screams began to weaken. Ah, that was good… That meant she was finally dying… The Attendant carefully inspected the position of the instrument. Hm… It seemed fine… But, she had to make sure. There was one recorded instance, where the instrument failed to remove the sternum completely, and it had ended in a rather messy situation. She wasn’t going to risk that…

Yeah, it seemed fine… The Attendant took a deep breath. It was going to work… it was going to work… It would work… it would… It would…

She pulled the lever and there was an intense series of cracks, followed by another explosion of blood and the screams returned once more, louder than before, only to die away slowly, and painfully. The Attendant had fallen back, from the sudden changes, and began to wipe the thick, blood and fat from her face, before looking at Kani…

Kani wasn’t dead yet… But it was obvious, she had no chance of survival. The Attendant peered into her chest and smiled brightly. Her heart was still beating, droplets of blood falling over it. That was also good. She carefully reached past the instrument, past the broken ribs, and sternum, and placed her cold hands on the heart. Oh, it was so warm…

The Attendant gently licked her lips, as she stared down at the dying body before her. Oh, she felt so happy. She was doing such wonderful things for her Goddess… Oh, yes… She gently gripped the heart, in one hand, and then lifted the blade with the other, before carefully, and slowly cutting the thick muscular tubes, that held connected it to the body. With every cut, Kani moaned in pain. With every cut, blood gushed out like a fountain, until…

*

Obina watched as Kani Hankaku’s body went limp, and the Attendant stood up holding the organ. It was still beating… It was so strange. Hearts were always beating, after they were removed. Obina didn’t know why, but it was apparently because the souls resided in the heart. (Refer to NOTE 3)

But it always so morbidly fascinating to see.

The Attendant dropped the knife, and Obina could hear it clatter; the sharp metallic noise, like music. Obina smiled as the Attendant, walked towards her slowly, holding out the heart, as her body dripped in blood.

It was a different girl, this year… Her face looked rather nice… Hmm… Obina moved her fingers, making a few gestures, and another Attendant nodded by her side. Yes, it would be nice, if this girl would pleasure her. Obina, already felt wet just thinking about it…

The Attendant paused, as she reached Obina. The mountains of fat, and blubber, prevented the Attendant from coming close to her mouth. Every Attendant would feel awkward doing this, but they had no other way. Slowly, carefully, and gently, the Attendant began to climb on the soft, squishy mound, taking great care not to hurt the Priestess. She was taking great measures to avoid Obina’s wounds.

Obina opened her mouth and waited. This was the one part of the festival, she didn’t really enjoy. She didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t pleasant… She could vaguely feel the weight of the Attendant on her body. Her stomach was normally rather sensitive, but right now after consuming the massive amounts of liquid, combined with the heaviness in her head, she really didn’t feel much about her body…

Obina paused for a second, smacking her dry lips, before smiling as the Attendant carefully stepped on her massive breasts, and finally reached Obina’s mouth. Obina stared at the dark, red organ in her hand. It was still twitching, the muscle memory finally dying, and the remnants of energy flowing away.

Obina opened her mouth, and the Attendant, carefully moved, pushing the entire heart into her mouth whole. Ughh… It felt good eating something, but the texture and consistency was so displeasing… Obina held the heart in her mouth for a few seconds, before trying to swallow it whole. Urk… It was always so hard… It just made her gag. She tried a second time, and this time, she felt it slide down her throat, slowly, but surely, into her belly.

She let out a gasp, as the heart finally slipped down into her gut and smiled peacefully at the Attendant, who was slowly moving off of Obina’s body. How adorable… She stared past her, at Kani Hankaku’s corpse. She grinned to herself, as she watched.

Other Attendants were taking care of Kani’s body. She watched them carefully use carving knives to cut away large chunks of flesh, and expose the pale bones. Obina wanted to laugh. This woman had given up her life, so that her family would be better off. A noble gesture. As noble as Jantar, or maybe even more so. They both went through so much suffering for their families.

She coughed softly, as they began to pull out her bones and break them, extracting the marrow. She smiled peacefully as they used Kani’s fat as fuel to cook her own flesh. She watched them cook the woman. Cook her flesh, and marrow, and serve it to the eager populace. They ate the blessed offering, gratefully. After all, it was not every day that one could get food that was blessed by a god.

*

Jenia was wringing her hands, as she stared out, at the streets. She was in her palanquin, heading for the temple of Astarte. She had been summoned by the Priestess, and she could not help but feel fear.

So much fear.

The span of a year, the priestess had legally executed her parents, destroyed their family financially and socially, and then repaired the family, financially and socially.

It was terrifying.

Jenia had once only looked at the Priestess as a fat, obese woman, who only cared about eating, and drinking. A pig. A slob. She had no blessing from any god.

But she had been so wrong.

She may not have been blessed, but she was powerful. Everyone was in the palm of her hand. Everything she wanted, everything she desired, was simply the desire of a mad woman, under the guise of a benevolent goddess.

It was so very terrifying.

She rubbed her swollen belly a few times. Since the festival, Jenia had put on weight again, but her skin no longer had the lustre or the smoothness it once did. But her hair was unchanged. Still long, smooth and silky. Yes… Her engagement was still off, sadly, but she did not blame the Shnid family. They were still scared of being associated with such a family.

But, to the people, the Hankaku family was better than ever. The Priestess had not only blessed them, but the Festival’s main sacrifice came from their family. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

Jenia wanted to cry, when she heard of her mother’s demise, but it felt so pointless, and so ironic. Their mother would forever be hailed as a martyr, whereas their father would never be remembered, his name struck from the records, forever… How ironic…

She felt the palanquin come to a halt, and she peeked outside. The Temple… Oh, she hated it now. Forget the beautiful architecture and effort that must have gone into building the monument. She would give everything just to watch it being torn down brick, by brick.

She slowly stepped out the palanquin, and immediately her servants swarmed her, to grab her heavy locks, as she walked into the temple.

Jenia walked as fast as she could, through the temple. She ignored the beautiful carvings, and paintings that she had once admired so deeply. This entire place made her want to vomit.

She paused in front of the grand doors that led to the Priestess’s hall. Ugh… She took a deep breath and turned to a small boy who was standing there, “Inform the Priestess that Jenia Hankaku has come to meet her, as she requested.”

The Boy nodded and rushed inside. Requested… Huh. Like it was a request. If she didn’t come, their family would be destroyed.

After a few minutes the Boy came out and nodded, “She’ll see you now.”

Jenia nodded. Good. She wanted this to be done with now.

She marched into the hall and stared at the disgusting blob, on her throne. Her body was sweat profusely, despite being fanned by so many skinny attendants. Jenia couldn’t stand the sight of her, but… but, she couldn’t help it. She was still so beautiful…

The Priestess smiled as Jenia walked in, and then moved a few of her fingers. What was she doing…

Immediately, a number of the attendants began to file out of the room, silently. Few of them didn’t even move, but they started covering their ears. What was going on here?

One man stepped forward and, ignoring Jenia, spoke to her servants, “Please step out. The Priestess wants to speak with Madam Hankaku alone, please.”

Jenia’s servants nodded and immediately filed out with the Attendants. What was going on?

Jenia gritted her teeth and spoke up, ignoring all protocol, “Priestess, what do you want with me now?”

Obina smiled sickly, and spoke slowly, with her ugly hesitant voice, “…What… do I… Want? Hahaha… You… Always you…”

Jenia frowned, “What are you talking about?” She had not been rebuked for speaking out like that… Something odd was going on…

Obina sighed and shifted slowly, and her blubber began to ripple slowly, “Isn’t it… so odd… how people seem to… adore you? I’m… I’m supposed to be… the most… beautiful… woman… in the… country… but…” She glanced at her tiny, atrophied limbs, “I can’t… do anything… on my own…”

Jenia frowned. She understood Obina’s plight, better than most others could. The inability to move, was terrifying. The lack of control, the constant hunger and pain… to the point where, you became a machine. Only eating, sleeping and shitting. Even thinking became painful, because when you thought about anything other than eating, there was only pain. Eating pushed the pain aside…

Jenia blinked. Why was she pitying this slob?? She frowned, “So what? So, you can’t move. You have everything else, anyone could ever want. Ever desire you could want, is yours.”

Obina nodded slowly, “Yes… Yes… I know… Everything is mine… and I want you…”

Jenia finally understood, “So… You want me to be yours… Another attendant.”

Obina smiled and laughed. It was a harsh grating laugh, “Ha… Ahaha… Not… an attendant… a slave…”

Jenia’s face twisted in disgust, “You really are a sick bitch, aren’t you?”

Obina nodded, the smile only growing wider.

Jenia sighed and held out her hands, “Well, then? What are you waiting for? Capture me? You can have anything right?”

Obina nodded, “Yes… But… I’m not… going to order it… You will join… me… as a slave… of your own… will… Serving the… Goddess forever…”

Jenia frowned again, “What?”

“Join… of your own… will.”

Jenia smirked, “How about never?”

Now, Obina frowned, “Never? …then fine… You will never join…”

Jenia’s smirk only widened, “Then I’ll be leaving-”

Obina continued as Jenia spoke, “And… your brother will die.”

Jenai froze, and her smirk vanished. Huh?

“Your brother… will die… and then… your uncle… and your aunt… and your little… nephews… and nieces… Your attendants will become slaves… your money will wither… you will be assaulted, by people every day… and it will be slow… over years… and you will watch… your family crumble and… burn… because of you…”

Jenia felt pale and weak, “W-wait… You can’t…”

Obina smiled softly, “I am… Astarte… I am… the… Goddess… I can do… anything… Now… leave-”

“N-No, wait…”, Jenia fell to her knees.

“And… watch your family… suffer…”

Jenia scrambled forward, to Obina, “N-No! Wait! Please! D-Don’t hurt them! They’ve done… They’ve done nothing wrong!”

Obina shrugged, “So?”

Jenia felt tears fall from her face, “P-Please! Don’t hurt them! They’ve suffered so much when my father died!”

Obina shrugged again, “Don’t… care…”

Jenia swallowed and placed her head on the ground, “P-Please forgive me… I’m sorry…”

“You know… what I want…”

Jenia swallowed again and closed her eyes. When she was little she had dreamed of a peaceful life. A husband. Children. Wealth. Happiness. Peace. She had such simple dreams… but, they were nice… and they were happy.

“Please… Make me your slave… Priestess.”

Obina smiled, “Good… Good…”

Immediately, Jenia felt someone grab her hair and pulled her up forcefully, as cried out in pain. What-What was going-

She felt something cold run over her scalp. Huh? This sensation… this was… No… No, wait! No-

Jenia immediately fell back to the ground, her head feeling extremely cold and extremely light. No… No… She ran her hands over her head, and her eyes widened. Nothing. There was nothing… She turned around and saw a tall, buff man, holding a razor in one hand, and… her hair… Her beautiful raven locks…

Jenia opened her mouth and began to cry out. In pain. In fear. In shame. And Obina began to laugh. And Laugh. And Laugh.

*

Jehnah moved slowly, alongside the other Merchant Princes. There were a number of them, and behind all of them, was small procession, that was pulling their offerings to Astarte.

Some were bigger than others, and some were a bit smaller, but it didn’t really matter. They just had to provide the offerings to the Goddess.

Jehnah hated this. Year, after year they gave to her. Gave her everything she needed, and wanted. There was a time, when he had enjoyed doing this. Serving a god. Oh, it had been blissful. But now…

She came to a stop, with the other Princes, staring up at the Priestess… at her feet, was her favourite slave. It was obvious, that slave was her favourite. The Priestess was rarely seen without her. She used her for cleaning, for pleasuring, and many times, for sheer amusement. Jehnah had seen the girl being beaten many times for no reason at all.

Right now, the slave had her hands inside the Priestess’s nether regions. Cleaning, or pleasuring. It wasn’t clear from his position. He could see the pale scars on her back, neck and arms. Her bald head glistened with sweat, as she struggled to do her job. 

The Priestess had a look of utter bliss on her face, so it was clear that the slave was doing well. But Jehnah closed his eyes, when he saw the Priestess move her fingers. He heard a shrill cry, as the girl was kicked by a nearby attendant, causing her to fall to the side and grasp her abdomen weakly.

Jehnah could see the loose, flabby skin, on the Slave’s belly. A sign, that she had once been rounder, more wholesome and beautiful. He stared at her face and struggled not to cry. She had once been his sister. But now… He could not even say her name…

He didn’t know why she became a slave, but he suspected many things. So many things… but was there any point in suspecting things, when he had no power to do anything. He had no power at all… He couldn’t even protect his family. He closed his eyes again, and struggled to hold back his tears as he heard a deep voice ring out, “Bow! Bow for the Priestess of Astarte!”

Bow… He fell to his knees, with the other princes, and he could hear the people cry out in happiness ang delight. Yes… All of you… Rejoice. Rejoice. For we are rule, by a Goddess.

No… They were ruled by Monstrous Insanity and Darkness, dressing itself like a beauty, so that it could draw them in like moths to a flame.

And like all moths, they would all burn to ash.

And then, there’d be nothing more.

Just…

            Ashes and Dust.

                                    Forever.

 

THE END


End file.
